Family Duty Honor
by fairiel
Summary: This takes place after the Battle of the Five Armies. Of course, everyone is alive and well, it goes without saying. Thorin and Bard both decide that Fíli and Sigrid have to get married. But the young people don't really dig each other. Will love finally find them? (sorry, i suck so much at summaries)
1. Chapter 1

"But Da! You can't do this!" Sigrid said, indignant.

It was still early spring and her hands were tearing at the edges of the woolen shawl she kept on her shoulders to warm her up. Bard looked at her kindly, knowing full well she would not understand but trying to explain as patiently as he could.

"You are a lord's daughter and he's a prince and heir to Erebor. We need the help and the gold. It's the best offer they would take."

"So I'm to be exchanged for gold" she cried out, almost spitting the words with contempt. "I thought you cared for me."

Bard sighed. It made him highly unhappy that he had to treat her that way. Sigrid was his eldest daughter and her life had not been easy, especially after her mother's death. She had had to care about her siblings, taking a place that she was too young to hold fully. And again, he had to force on her decisions that weren't hers to make. It troubled him greatly and he wished he could make her see he had no choice in the matter. Thorin had made the negotiations harder than they needed to be. Even now that he was cured from the dragon sickness, he would not let go of so much wealth without any compensation. Bard had nothing but his good faith and the promise that his people would work hard, but it had not been enough.

"Look, Sig, I had no choice. If we are to live here, there's a few concessions we need to make."

He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he realized he could have been gentler when Sigrid's eyes filled with tears.

"How can you say that, Da?" she asked. "Must I give up my happiness so that our people can carry on?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she understood. She was now Lady of Dale and it was her duty to do just that. She was expected to care more about her people than herself. And that meant she would have to marry where her heart did not belong. All her life had only been about duty. She had thought that maybe now she would be allowed a little pleasure but it seemed that it would be denied again. She sighed heavily as her father took her hands, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

"It could have been worse, I suppose" she finally said, chest heaving as she swallowed back her tears. "At least, I'm not marrying Alfrid."

Bard could have chuckled if he did not know how utterly miserable he had made her. She was only trying to face her future with as much dignity as she could. He patted her on the back as she hugged him.

"I love you, Da" she muttered against his shoulder. "You know that I do."

What else could she say or do? Her feelings did not count. Dale had to be rebuilt. With the dwarves' gold. She had no choice.

"I know, little princess" Bard said. She was still his princess even though she was now Lady of Dale.

"I will do what I must" she continued, head held up high, holding back her tears. And make you proud in the process.

When her father left and she was alone in her room, Sigrid fell down on her knees on the hard stone ground, her hands still clutching her shawl, her whole body refusing what her mind was telling her to accept. She remembered the young dwarf prince from their brief encounter before the destruction of her city. She had not really paid much attention to him in particular. There were so many of them dwarves, she had not cared to know who was who. But he had come back with his sick brother and orcs had attacked. She had been frightened but not enough not to notice how he had shielded her and Bain from them. With his own body, as he did not have any weapon. Brave, he certainly was. Caring, also. She had seen how he worried about his brother, how he always put others first. These were qualities she could admire in her future husband, but would it be enough?

He was so different from her. She did not know anything about dwarves but for the folklore of Laketown, and many people there had not seen one in ages. She was curious, she had to admit, but also a bit fazed. He was royalty. He had been raised for power from childhood. With her simple upbringing, she was afraid she might disappoint him. She was ordinary compared to him. There was an air of nobility about him, she could see. Even in those adverse times, he had borne himself with pride. Even though the people of Dale now called her Lady and looked up to her as second only to her father, she knew Fíli would not be fooled. She was no lady. She had none of the manners which could be expected of one.

And she had other worries. She was young, certainly, but not so young not to know what kinds of duties she would have to perform once they were married. She had to admit she was not quite prepared to them with a man, much less with a dwarf. To be honest, she could not see how she would ever be. The mere thought of having sex with anyone at all disgusted her and her body heaved as she almost threw up. But maybe that was because no one significant had ever shown an interest to her. The only one who had ever tried to court her was Alfrid, and he disgusted her even more than the thought of bearing Fíli's children.

At least, she did not despise Fíli as she did Alfrid. She felt glad in a remote part of her heart that she would be rid of the disgusting man. He had been pursuing her relentlessly, even after Bard had told him it would never happen. Well, good riddance, she thought. He would not dare resume his courtship once he knew she was engaged to the dwarf prince.

The door opened in a burst and a whirlwind of blue linen. Before she knew it, her young sister Tilda was in her arms, face bathed in tears, hugging her fiercely.

"Oh Sig" the younger girl sobbed "I don't want you to leave."

Fighting not to let her sister's sorrow contaminate her, Sigrid sighed. She brushed the tears from Tilda's face with deft fingers then rocked her, humming a sweet tune to soothe her.

"I'm sorry, Tee" she finally said. "There's nothing anyone can do, unfortunately."

"I don't want you to go. Please. Say you won't" Tilda managed amidst her sobs.

Sigrid shook her head. "This is not about what we want, Tee. You're strong. You will be alright."

Tilda raised her wet face towards her sister, confused.

"This is unfair, but what can we do when our fates are decided by circumstances?" Sigrid continued.

"I don't understand."

The older girl sighed. "And I hope a long time passes before you have to."

More than having to marry the dwarf Prince, it was the fact that she had no say in the matter that bothered Sigrid. If she could have spent some time with him before, to talk to him so they would get to know each other, she would not have felt so miserable. She wondered how Fíli felt about all this. Was he even consulted? Did he want to marry her or had it also been forced on him? From the little she has seen of Thorin, King Under The Mountain, proud and unyielding, she guessed the young prince must feel as helpless as she.

She got up and took her sister's hand.

"Come, Tee. Dry your tears and let's go down. I'm not going far." She pointed at the mountain from the window of her room. "It's not the end of the world."

Tilda smiled at her. "You're so wise, Sig. I hope one day I'll be as wise as you."

But what else was she supposed to do, Sigrid thought. She was no longer the daughter of Bard the bargeman, but Lady of Dale, and if she wanted her new city to regain a little of its old glory, there were sacrifices that were expected of her. She only hoped she could find the strength that would help her tolerate it.

The next day, Sigrid was in the kitchen making loaves of bread when Tilda called her excitedly. Sigrid wiped the flour from her hands on her apron as her sister pointed at three silhouettes climbing the stairs to Dale. Even at this distance, their height and beards left no doubt as to their identity. Sigrid's face contorted at the thought of meeting her fate so soon. Why had they come? What could they want?

"I'd better change into a proper dress" she said before heading to her room, followed closely by her sister.

The little girl suddenly broke up in tears. "Oh Sig, I don't want you to go!"

"I'm not leaving today, Tee, I promise. Go find Da. He needs to be there to welcome them."

She searched her wardrobe for a suitable dress while Tilda was out but had to settle for the least worn-out. They had lost almost everything in the fire and although she had managed to trade for some new clothes, nothing she owned looked fine enough for the King Under The Mountain and his family. Surely, there was nothing to be ashamed of, considering the first time she had met them they were coming out of their toilet, she remembered. The thought almost made her cheerful. However, things were reversed now, and Bard was the one in need. She eased the wrinkles on her skirt before checking herself in the mirror. Her thick brown hair was braided and tied in a knot on the nape of her neck. The dress was blue, a bit faded from use, but she thought the colour became her. Did she look pretty? She had no idea, having never given much thought about her appearance.

When she was ready, Sigrid made it down the stairs where her father was waiting with his guests. He had apparently sent Tilda and Bain out. She felt lonely without her siblings. Well, she would have to get used to it. She tugged nervously at her dress, suddenly aware of how poor she must look to the dwarves, all dressed richly in furs and silver belts. But there was nothing to be done about it. She did not own any better gear.

"Ah, Sigrid, finally" Bard said as she appeared.

She could sense his nervousness in the tingling air. Why did he look so tense? Fortunately, Sigrid had always been the "woman" of the house and knew her duties as a host. Old habits die hard, they said, and it was true.


	2. Chapter 2

"How do you feel about getting married, big brother?" Kíli teased Fíli as the older dwarf clasped the silver buckle from his fur cloak, finally ready to go to Dale and meet his bride-to-be.

"Quit it, will you" Fíli sighed in annoyance at his little brother.

Kíli was having the time of his life, he could tell. Since Thorin had announced the wedding, the younger dwarf had seized every opportunity to make fun of his brother.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad, Fee. She's rather cute, for a human."

Cute? Fíli frowned. He had not even thought about her appearance. To tell the truth, he had been more angry at the fact that the whole matter was decided without his knowledge or participation. Even Dís had been annoyed with Thorin and had tried to get him to change his mind. Arranged marriages were not the rule for dwarves and it would be a first in the line of Durin. But the deal was made and nothing could be done about it.

Fíli waved his brother away. "Laugh all you want. It's going to be your turn soon enough."

"Oh no, it won't. I'm not heir to the crown" Kíli replied with a wink.

"You always had it so easy. One day, it's going to change. Believe me."

Fíli had always been a little jealous of his brother. As heir to Thorin, he was always expected to act a certain way, do certain things. His childhood had been filled with lessons on all sorts of tedious subjects while Kíli had all the fun. As a result, he had grown more mature and faster, but less happy. Or so he thought. It was a bit unfair, although his brother had nothing to do with it. Inheriting the Blue Mountains was enough pressure already, but since they had reclaimed Erebor, Thorin had been even more demanding, if that was possible. Fíli would have done anything to please his uncle, though. If there was one quality that defined him, it was his loyalty to his family, to the line of Durin. But marrying that human girl? What had gone into Thorin? Was it some remnants of the dragon sickness? In that case, Fíli dared not oppose him. Who knew what damage the madness had left? Maybe Thorin was not completely cured.

Fíli left the room he shared with his brother and met his mother and uncle in the hallway. Why did they have to pay Sigrid a visit? Why couldn't they get over with the wedding as soon as possible? He had no more mind to her as she to him, he supposed. But they both had a duty to their King, to their people. And probably courtship was to be expected. He had no idea how it all went. Maybe he should have brought a gift, now that he thought about it. It was too late now.

As they climbed the stairs to Dale, Fíli spied some flowers growing in between the steps. It was early spring and snow still clung to the ground. With the desolation left by the dragon, it was a miracle anything grew at all. He took it as a good omen for the meeting to come. He stopped and bent, picking some of the flowers as an offering to Sigrid. They were blue, of that pale but vivid blue that rivers showed when glaciers melted. Beautiful, he thought. He hoped she would like them.

He looked up at the many towers, trying to guess which one was Bard's. Many of the lodgings had been destroyed, including the ancient Lord's palace, but the people of Laketown were already busy rebuilding what they could. They needed all the help they could get, he could see. Why was this masquerade necessary? Why not give them the gold they needed? Many dwarves had come from the Blue Mountains, even from the Iron Hills. They could lend a hand in good friendship. Why trade what they could give? The results would be the same. Unless Thorin was somehow afraid that Bard was not trustworthy. In which case, tightening the agreement with a marriage was necessary. But it would mean there were still traces of dragon sickness in his uncle, Fíli thought, unsettled. He did not want to think about it. Mostly because they shared the same blood and the disease seemed hereditary.

They made it through a street still cluttered with rubble and Fíli watched with wonder as the people of Dale bowed and took off their hats in front of his uncle. The lords of silver fountains, he heard them whisper with awe when they passed. He would never get used to it, how those men believed the dwarves would solve all their problems. If only they knew the sacrifices he and Sigrid were about to make. But dwelling on what he could not change did no good. He had to embrace his fate. Do his duty. Maybe it would not be that bad.

Bard was already on his doorstep to greet them. His house did not look like much, but the people of Laketown had lost everything and Bard had to make do with what was available. The lord himself looked a bit weary and anxious in his worn-out clothes, even though he wore the golden circlet of his function with pride and dignity.

"Lord Bard" Thorin said, bowing slightly.

"King Thorin" the man replied, bowing as well. "Prince Fíli."

Thorin waved at Fíli's mother. "This is my sister, the lady Dís."

Bard bowed lower. "My lady."

An awkward silence followed as Sigrid came down the stairs. Fíli looked at her intently, remembering his brother's words. Was she pretty? He truly had no idea. He had never looked at girls before. They had never been his priority. And the last time he had seen Sigrid, he had not really paid attention to her appearance. He had been busy with other matters.

Bard broke the silence, introducing everyone. "You remember King Thorin and his nephew Fíli, I'm sure" he told the girl. "And this is the lady Dís, Thorin's sister. My daughter, Sigrid."

She stood for a moment, silent. Then she saw the table laden with refreshments and started to pour a clear liquid in nice tin goblets. Her hands, shaky at first, soon stopped their tremor and she handed everyone their drinks with a constrained smile and a small curtsey. Fíli thanked her with what he hoped was warmth when she gave him the goblet. As he took it, his fingers involuntarily brushed hers. She removed her hand in a hurry as if she had been burnt.

He was suddenly painfully aware of how large his hands looked next to hers and he wondered how it would feel like to hold her fingers. They looked so tiny and thin, although she was almost a full head taller than him. But she had bolted away from him, as if repelled by his touch, and it hurt him more than he cared to admit. Did she act like that because he was a dwarf?

Fíli suddenly remembered the blue flowers he had picked earlier on the steps. He felt stupid now, as he handed them to her. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Good-natured. Innocent. What would she think? Would she discard them as well?

"I'm sorry I don't have a better gift for you, lady Sigrid" he said. "But I dare hope these will please you."

The flowers were the exact same shade as her dress, he reflected as she took them, voicing her thanks in a murmur. Their fingers touched again but this time, she did not jerk off her hand and let it linger a while on his. Her skin was warm but not exactly soft or smooth, betraying her years of toil. He was surprised to find the touch not entirely unpleasant.

She brought the flowers to her face, smelling them, more a reflex than anything. Did he see a flicker of delight in her eyes? He was not sure. What a strange girl, he thought. She was so silent, standing awkward in that plain blue dress of hers. There was nothing notable about her. She was too tall, too thin, too shy. Not underfed but not really robust as well. Her hair was tied back in a knot, showing her round cheeks, as smooth as a baby's. No, she definitely was not pretty by any dwarf standards.

When they had all taken a sip of their drinks, Thorin went in a corner to talk with Bard and Dís, leaving Fíli and Sigrid alone. What could he tell her? She stared at her feet, her eyes refusing to meet his. How could he talk to her? He looked at the table. The tray on which she had taken the goblets was filled with some sort of cakes. He seemed to remember Thorin telling him the girl liked to bake. She saw his gaze and quickly grabbed the tray.

"Would you mind a cake?" she asked in an undertone.

"Did you make them?" he inquired.

Maybe showing an interest in what she liked would make her less defensive. She nodded.

"They're raisin scones" she explained, delight in her eyes, finally meeting his gaze.

"In that case, I'll have one" he said.

She was clearly very proud of herself, and with reason, he thought as he ate the scone. He never had anything so delicious in his whole life.

"Great Mahal!" he exclaimed, grinning at her as he finished the cake. "It's the best thing I've eaten in ages!"

Her eyes brightened at the compliment and she smiled. But he could see she did it only out of politeness. He clearly made her uneasy, but he couldn't see how. He had put on his best clothes, and Dís had even combed his hair, smoothing the knots as she braided it and tied it with silver beads. His hands were clean and he had donned a new pair of boots. All in all, he thought he did not look too bad. He knew he had a countenance that dwarf girls usually liked, not that he had been very interested in them. But he had noticed how they looked at him, speaking in hushed tones and giggling. But this human girl - she was so very different. He had no idea how to please her. And why should he? He was forced into this, as much as she. Why could she not make a small effort, as he had?

The awkward silence went on for long minutes, with Sigrid stealing glances at her father. At last, Thorin stood up, shaking Bard's hand, and they took their leave. Bard and Sigrid walked them to the door and arrangements were made for the girl to come and meet Dís about the wedding.

As they walked away down the street, Fíli turned back to look at the house, trying to figure out which window was the one to Sigrid's room. He noticed one was open and he could make out a figure in a pale dress placing a vase on the windowsill. A vase with blue flowers in them. He smiled. At least, the flowers were not unwelcome. He would find a better gift next time. Maybe a jewel from the immense treasure under the mountain. No doubt she would like that.

Why was he eager about their next meeting? He did not even think she was beautiful. And they barely had exchanged a word. He knew he had upset her somehow, but for a moment when their hands had touched for the second time, he had felt a thrill in his heart. What did it mean? Had she felt it too? Was it proper to ask her? He had no answer to his questions and he doubted anyone he knew could help him.

"So, how was the meeting?" Kíli asked. "Not too boring, I hope."

It was evening and he was settling the plates on the table for dinner. Even though they were all royalty and rich beyond measure now, they still kept to their humble habits. Dís made a point to have her sons to eat with her every evening, as they did in the Blue Mountains.

"It was awkward" Fíli answered. "I don't know what to think of her."

"But did you think she was pretty?"

"No, not really" Fíli paused, uneasy. "I don't know. Maybe. If she smiled."

Kíli chuckled, tossing his brother the cutlery. Fíli caught it in the air and placed it on the table.

"I bet you frightened her with your horrible manners" the younger dwarf put in, still laughing. "You big oaf!"

"Yours are no better than mine, in that case!" Fíli exclaimed. "And watch out what you say about our mother's education!"

They sat down and Fíli got some bread and cheese while Dís poured the wine.

"No, but seriously" he continued. "I think I might have offended her. But I honestly don't know what I have done."

It still bothered him, although he did not see why it should. His mother and uncle had given him the best of education. He was proud of being a dwarf. Proud of being a descendant of Durin, founder of the Long Beards, the first tribe of Dwarves to ever grace this earth. Why should he change anything to please this plain girl? She did not even have a proper dress! No, that's not fair, he chided himself. The people of Laketown had lost everything. How could she be expected to have rich clothes? He should know better. He had not always been so well-off. Back in the Blue Mountains, they had not always thrived as they did now.

"Oh, I'm sure it's only in your head" Dís said. "Who wouldn't like my son? My pride and joy. You look so much like your father and he was the best-looking dwarf ever."

"Not to mention that you also have Mother's perfect manners" Kíli chimed in.

"Will you stop it with that!" Fíli exclaimed, still vexed, throwing a chunk of bread in his brother's face.

Kíli threw it back to him. "By Mahal, I was serious!"

"Kíli!" Dís exclaimed, indignant. "You will not swear at my table!"

But her face showed a large grin and she tossed an apple in his direction. Kíli caught it deftly and threw it back at Fíli who held out his hands in protest.

"No, not the apples! You know how I hate them since that barrel ride!"

They all laughed and ate their meal with mirth.

Still, before going to sleep that night, Fíli could only think of the touch of Sigrid's hand, and how pleasant her fingers had felt against his. Maybe - maybe this marriage would prove less of a buden than he had thought.


	3. Chapter 3

At last, the day of the wedding had come. Sigrid had never thought it would take so long for all the preparations but dwarven customs were very precise and incredibly tedious. Thorin had insisted for them to be respected and followed to the letter. He had nevertheless agreed to pay the bride-price in advance, which had allowed Bard to buy fabric for the wedding dress from the Wood-Elves. While Sigrid was expected to sew her dress, Fíli had to provide her with a home. It meant he had to delve his own halls in the Mountain. That was why it had taken a long time, because his halls had to be worthy of the prince and heir to the throne.

At first, the delay had disappointed her. It was not that she was in a hurry to get married but she had thought the faster it would happen, the better. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Now, however, she saw the benefits of a long betrothal. She had time to get better acquainted with all the new customs she would have to respect, and there were so many of them. Fíli's mother, the lady Dís, had been her teacher. Patient, kind and highly respected by her people, Dís had taught her everything she needed to know. Together, they had gone through all the steps of the ceremony. Though still anxious about it, Sigrid was now far more confident. She would have liked to see more of Fíli during that time, but he was so busy building them a home she had barely seen him, except on the day where the contract had been signed. She wondered if he was as frustrated as she was. How were they supposed to get to know each other if they could not spend some time together? But maybe they would have a whole life for that. Still, it bothered her because she did not know if she would like him or not.

"Sig" her father called from downstairs. "Are you ready?"

She fastened her heavy cloak on her shoulders, checking her reflection in the mirror one last time. She could not even recognize herself. The wedding dress was of elvish design, incredibly light and soft. White with silvery branches and leaves twining all over it, it clung to her form, revealing more of her silhouette than she was comfortable to show. She had spent countless hours following the alien pattern for she was not used to sewing such intricate things. Tilda had helped her putting it on, tying all the knots to the back as tight as she could. Sigrid had then sent her little sister away for a few moments of contemplation on her own. She feared Tilda's tears would make her cry too and she could not afford to go to her wedding with puffy eyes and blotched cheeks.

The cloak was heavier than the dress, light blue wool with a collar of fur. It fell around her and strayed at the back majestically. A river of sapphires was shimmering around her neck, down to her breasts. Fíli himself had given them to her after the signing of the contract. She had never seen anything so beautiful or so costly in her entire life. The gems in her hair were even more precious, shining diamonds so small it must have taken long hours to give them the right shape. Woven together in a net, they imprisoned the top of her head like a subtle crown. She had done her hair in a large braid that hung loosely on her right shoulder. Small wisps of unruly hair still brushed her temples, no matter what she did. It would have to do, she thought before going down the stairs to meet her father.

"You look lovely, my princess" he said as he saw her, taking her hand and leading her outside, but she knew it was only the clothes and the stones that made her beautiful.

A large crowd was waiting for them in the street. She saw her sister Tilda among them, her hand clutching Bain's in an effort not to cry. Sigrid smiled at her sister, trying to look as self-assured as she could. She realized that life would be very different now. Different and lonely, without her father and siblings to keep her company. She had never been parted from them, but it was not the first time she lost someone dear, and it would certainly not be the last. She braced herself. Life had made her strong, she would use this to her advantage now. She waved at her brother and sister before making it down the road. The people had to stay in Dale but there would be feasting and rejoicing throughout the city. They knew that with her marriage would come great wealth for all of them.

Bard and Sigrid went down the stairs and along the path to the Mountain with their escort of royal guards. She could not see the need for all this. They were not at war and she was under no risk of getting snatched or hurt. But it was part of the dwarves customs, and however irksome they were, she would have to get used to them.

They were greeted at the gate by Thorin himself. The King exchanged a few words with Bard before leading them and their escort further down the Mountain. It was not the first time she entered the Halls of Erebor, but as always, stepping on the floor made of pure gold humbled her. How could she ever get used to living there? All her life she had dreamed of the day the dwarf-lords would return and the streets would be paved with gold and silver would flow from the fountains. But that was all it ever was, a dream. Now that it was about to become reality, she did not know if all those riches were a blessing or a curse.

After walking through long and large hallways, they finally arrived in front of a richly decorated stone door. A large party was waiting there, led by Fíli and his mother Dís. Sigrid could only hold her breath as she saw the young dwarf prince, for it seemed he was glowing in the light of the many oil lamps. His hair shone like polished gold as his clear eyes settled on her. He smiled graciously at her. She tried to smile back but her face was so tense she was sure it must have looked as if she was grimacing. She swallowed hard, trying to relax, remembering what Dís had taught her about the ceremony.

Thorin placed himself at his nephew's side and took his hand. Bard did the same with her. For a moment, her heart sank. She was not ready. How could she live in this place, where no sun shone, with those strange people, so close but so far from her family? She wished the dragon had never woken. She wished the dwarves had never come back. She closed her eyes, praying to find the courage. She felt a heavy silence all around her and opened her eyes to find Fíli right in front of her. Thorin had a large piece of paper in his hands and started to read it, first in Kuzhdul, then in the common tongue. The contract. It seemed to go on endlessly. Sigrid could only look at her feet, afraid to meet Fíli's gaze. She felt as awkward as during their first meeting.

When Thorin was finished, Bard asked the ritual question: "Prince Fíli of Erebor, do you accept my daughter, the lady Sigrid, as your wife, and do you welcome her in your home?"

"In the name of Mahal and of Eru, creator of all things, I, Fíli, Prince of Erebor, of the line of Durin, accept the lady Sigrid, daughter of Bard, Lord of Dale, as my wife and welcome her in my home."

It seemed that she stopped breathing altogether as Bard placed her hand in Fíli's. The young dwarf prince kneeled in acceptance, taking both her hands in his. She suddenly wished she had put some gloves on as she stared at their hands entwined. His were big and sturdy, hard and callused with the use of weapons and tools, as it was to be expected. Hers - she could not look at hers, worn and scarred, her skin ruined with years of dishwashing and laundry-making. They called her a lady, but those were no lady's hands. She dared not remove them but she wished he would release her. He finally stood up but kept her hands in his. That was it. She was about to become his wife. There was no turning back.

A sudden clamour filled the hallway as all the dwarves cheered, clapped their hands and stomped their feet. It seemed to Sigrid as if it came from a distance. She was dizzy now, her head swimming, and the rest of the ceremony happened as if in a dream. They both recited their vows, Fíli in Khuzdul and she in the common tongue, then exchanged rings. Finally, Thorin gave them both a mug of ale to drink. She knew she was expected to drink it all, even if it made her stomach heave. She was familiar with beer, of course, but to down it so fast made her queasy.

When it was done, Fíli wrapped his arm around her and led her inside his halls for the great feast. Her head already buzzing and pounding with the alcohol, she spent the rest of the day wondering when the endless procession of food would end. She could not eat anything. She could only stare coldly at the loud and drunk crowd of dwarves. Several times, she stole glances at her father, as if he could take her away from this dream, but there was nothing he could do.

As the hours passed, she felt even more uneasy. The wedding night was getting nearer. She knew what would be required of her. Dís had explained the importance of having sex, as it would be the only thing that would make the wedding official. It meant that there had to be witnesses and she dreaded that moment. She could not imagine what it would feel like with someone she liked, but this? Forced in front of total strangers? How could her father even agree to that? She grabbed the jug of ale in front of her and poured herself a full pint of it. Maybe if she was drunk, she would not feel a thing. Not the pain of her first time, nor the shame of doing it in public. She downed the pint as fast as she could, feeling the alcohol cloud her mind.

"Maybe we should take our leave" she heard Fíli whisper in her ear.

Not now, she thought, please, not now. But he was already standing up and taking her by the hand. He made his way with her to the other end of the hall, where some stairs led to a beautifully carven door. They were already up the stairs when she heard a roar in the crowd and some raucous laughter. She dimly saw some other dwarves stand up too, but Fíli immediately stopped and bellowed: "Stay down!"

It seemed there was a wave of protest, led by Thorin himself.

"I have sworn to the lord of Dale no one would witness the bedding of his daughter and I will be true to my word" Fíli continued, defying the crowd, and his uncle, not to follow his order.

He certainly did not lack courage, she thought, or authority. She had not expected the events to turn out that way.

He turned to Sigrid, opening the door. "Please, enter, my lady."

She did and he followed right after her, closing the door behind him.

"Thank you, my lord" she said, sighing in relief.

"Please, Sigrid, do not call me my lord in private" he replied, unbuckling his belt and getting rid of his heavy leathers and furs.

She nodded meekly, already removing all her jewels. Now that they were alone, there was nothing for it. Let it be quick, at least. She could see him, in his undertunic, looking at her intently as she fumbled with her dress. Of course, now that he had forbidden anyone to come in, she had no help to undo the ties at the back. It was not supposed to be that way, she remembered. Dís had said she would bring her to bed and prepare her before Fíli arrived. But now, she had to do it all by herself.

"Let me help you with that" he offered, waiting for an answer.

She nodded again and he quickly set up to the task, trying not to graze her skin in the process. She shivered as she felt the dress open and fall at her feet, leaving her standing in her shift.

"Will you promise not to hurt me?" she heard herself whisper.

He turned her so she faced him and took her hands. She looked down at him, wondering why he was hesitating.

"I hope you know I do not intend to force you, Sigrid" he said softly.

She could not believe what she was hearing. He did not want to have sex with her. Was she so disgusting that he was willing to forget his people's traditions? She did not know if she should be hurt or relieved. And what of their marriage? It would be considered official only after they had sex. Would he lie about that? What if someone wanted to make sure they had? Of course, there was no one to witness the lie, but these things always had a way of getting back in the face when you least expected. She was too drunk to really think about the consequences. All she saw was that she would not be compelled to have sex if she did not want to. And gods only knew she did not want to.

"Take the bed" he continued. "I'll sleep on the chair."

He did not even want to sleep with her. But of course, that figured. No one had asked him if he wanted to marry her. He had been civil in public out of duty, just like her. But this was as much a burden for him as it was for her. Still, he did not have to sleep uncomfortably.

"The bed is large" she said. "I don't see why you should sleep elsewhere."

"Believe me, I'd rather not" he replied, rather a bit too fast.

She entered the bed and laid down under the heavy blankets. What was it she had seen in his eyes, she later thought as she felt slumber take her. Was it disgust, or was it fear? But sleep was already taking hold and soon she thought no more.


	4. Chapter 4

Curled on the chair at the right of the bed, Fíli was desperately trying to get some sleep. It proved impossible, his restlessness preventing him from even closing his eyes. Or was it the close proximity of his new wife? As much as he tried, he could not take away his gaze from her sleeping form. Wisps of golden brown hair framed her smooth face resting peacefully on the pillow. She had fallen asleep instantly, probably too drunk to stay awake any longer than necessary. It was just as well.

He turned, trying to find a better position under his thick blanket lined with fur. The chair was far from comfortable but he had slept in worse places. That was not the reason for his unrest. He was not sure what was going on. He had not been prepared for this. But the feeling would not go away. It would not leave him alone. When Sigrid had needed help with her dress, he should have called his mother. But how was he to know? Dis was practically the only female he had ever been alone with.

He had never expected such a reaction, but there was no denying the wave of heat that had submerged him as he had unfastened Sigrid's dress. The view of her skin, from the nape of her neck where her hair curled just a little to her shoulder-blades, just above the hem of her shift, had left him breathless. Creamy white, it had shone like polished silver in the firelight. It had seemed so soft. So smooth. He had not been able to prevent his fingers from grazing her but it seemed she had not felt it, drunk as she was. She had just swayed on her feet until the whole dress was at her feet.

His hands were used to hard surfaces, like metal or stone. Both so cold. They only came to life after you had shaped them, worked them. But Sigrid was warm. Warm and alive. He had felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of her almost naked body close to his in the bed. What was happening? He did not understand. She unsettled him in a way he did not comprehend. Was it attraction? Desire? Those words were unknown to him, as well as the feelings they conveyed. He did not even find her beautiful, with her smooth face and shy manners. So what was it?

He sighed, turning once more, trying to conjure up other thoughts. But no matter what he did, the vision of her skin haunted his mind. He could not help but ask himself how she would have felt under his fingers. How sweet it would have been to make love to her. But what did he know of those things? The idea of bedding her had repulsed him at first. He was not so sure now. Still, he had decided he would not try anything unless she wanted it. And she had made it very clear she did not. He had seen how frightful she had been. How tense. She had not spoken a word during the whole feast. And she had been desperate enough to drink herself senseless. It hurt him to think he disgusted her that way, but what did he expect? Just a few hours before, he had felt the same about her.

The look of relief on her face as he had told her he would leave her alone had been unmistakable. What else could he have done? Taking advantage of her under these circumstances would have been the same as rape, even with his own wife. But what about the consequences? There was no way he could lie about bedding her. Not only was it unthinkable, but he was sure Thorin would know he was not truthful if he tried. And if Thorin did not, Dis would. His mother always knew his feelings even before he could put words on them. But how could he have done otherwise? Thorin clearly had not thought this through before coming up with the idea of an arranged marriage. It was all very well to have sex when both parties were consenting, but this?

Would things change as they got to know each other? He closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. Trying not to think about her. He focused on the sound of her breathing, regular and sound. Maybe that would lull him to sleep.

He woke up all of sudden. Something was not right. The room was too clear, too bright. The sun was in his eye, almost blinding him. What in Mahal's name? Then he remembered. He had made openings on purpose, so Sigrid would not be too disorientated. He knew how dark dwarves' halls could be at night, when all the oil lamps had died out.

Sigrid! His gaze fell on the empty bed. Where was she? He got up in a hurry and opened the door to the main room. Everybody had left, but the remnants of the feast were still on the tables and on the floor.

There she was, her hair tied in a knot, white apron on her brown and blue dress. Busy cleaning all the mess. He had no idea how long she had been at it, but she was certainly more than efficient, judging by the clean half of the room.

"Sigrid" he called from upstairs and she started, looking up at him in surprise. "Did you do this on your own?"

"Why, yes. Who else?" she answered. "Are you planning to help or will you stand there watching?"

He chuckled. She had humour. He liked that. He ran down the stairs and grabbed several mugs of ale. He threw them in the big washbasin that she had put in the middle of the room and rolled his sleeves before plunging his hands in the water.

"Oh" she said, stopping altogether what she was doing. "I was only jesting. I did not mean-"

"You did not mean what?" he asked. "Did you think we dwarves do not know how to clean the dishes?"

He should not have said that, he thought as her face suddenly dropped. She looked mortified.

"No" she finally replied. "It's just that- well, you're a Prince-"

"Tell that to my mother" he said with a wink, but she was still standing there, embarrassed.

"How did you sleep?" he inquired, hoping that changing the topic would bring back her spirits.

"Very well, thank you" she replied. "I did not expect to awake with the light of day. My thanks for thinking of that" she continued, pointing at the several windows he had carved in the thick stone walls.

"Of course" he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back, but again it felt a bit contrived. That was not going well, he thought as he helped her cleaning the rest of the room. Even now, he could see tiny wisps of hair curling on the nape of her neck and he remembered her standing in only her shift. What could he do to please her? Did he only want to? Life was far less complicated when no woman was involved.

As soon as they were done, he took his leave, pretexting some work that could not be delayed. In truth, he had nothing planned, but he could not stay idle. It would only bring back ideas and feelings he had no idea how to deal with.

Days passed. Then weeks. Always the same. Fíli gave Sigrid the freedom to come and go as she pleased, and she used it to go to Dale every day. She visited her family and went to the market. She kept herself busy. As did he. The less time they spent together, the less he had to be confronted to marital life. He still did not know how to act around her. He was always afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. It was more simple to avoid her and go on about his life as if she was not in it.

Everybody knew nothing had happened between them during the wedding night. And it was likely to remain that way for a long time. All could not help but notice how estranged they both were, how they kept to themselves. Fíli kept the habit of having dinner with Dís and his brother. Sigrid sometimes came along but she preferred to stay on her own. It was not how a dwarf marriage was supposed to be, and Thorin came one day, storming in Fíli's halls, saying that the contract would be broken if the marriage was not consummated.

"And if the contract is broken, then what of the alliance with the men of Dale?"

Thorin was fuming, but Fíli stood his ground.

"Maybe I shouldn't have accepted it in the first place!" he said, facing his uncle, defiant.

They stood glaring at each other, none of them wanting to give up.

"You should have thought about what an arranged marriage meant!" Fíli continued. "I can't very well force her."

Thorin looked away and cleared his throat. "No, of course not."

"Ha" stated Fíli, triumphant. "Finally. You admit it."

"But why does she resist?" asked Thorin with accusing eyes. "Are you trying your best?"

This time, it was Fíli's turn to look in the distance, embarrassed.

"I- She-" he mumbled.

"Well, you're going to have to do better than that" Thorin said before leaving Fíli to reflect on his words.

He had to admit, he had not tried very hard to seduce Sigrid. He still did not know what he felt for her. Every night, he spent on the chair while she slept in the bed. At first, he had told himself it was better, because he was afraid how his body might react to her proximity. But then, he had felt relieved when she had not insisted again for him to sleep with her. It meant that she did not want him. And she certainly did nothing to prove him otherwise. She spent most of her time on her own. But was it really her choice, or was she doing what he had ordained for her?

There was nothing for it. If he wanted advice, he would have to go to his mother, and pray that Kíli was not with her.

"Don't you feel anything for her?" asked Dís, her voice gentle, when Fíli was done telling her what his problem was. "She's no great beauty but there must be one thing about her that you like."

He thought about it, frowning. Sigrid was hardworking, and it seemed that she performed her duties as if they were no great burden. She also had a love for simple pleasures. She never wore the jewels he had gifted her, but she picked flowers outside and kept them in vases to brighten their halls. One of the first things she had done had been to sew colorful curtains to hang at their windows. At first, he had not liked the changes, but now he could not have imagined living without them.

He had to admit it was not unpleasant to be coddled. She took off his boots when he came back in the evening and always had a mug of ale ready for him. She seemed to know what he wanted even before he asked for it. And her cooking was the best he had ever tasted, no offense to his mother. She never once complained, no matter how hard the task, and was always quick and efficient. He was sure his halls were the best kept in the whole Mountain.

She was also a formidable haggler. He had seen her at the market and she always got the best bargain. Even when he had explained to her that wealth was not a problem, she had frowned. It was not in her habits to spend without counting. It probably never would be. But it showed her strength of character, even if she seemed unassuming. The trouble was that she was so quiet, he never knew what she thought.

"It's not that" Fíli finally said, realizing the truth for the first time. "I quite like her. But I'm afraid she doesn't like me. And please, don't tell me how she could not. I know you think I'm the best-looking dwarf, but Sigrid is not a dwarf and she must have other standards."

"Well, first of all, my dear son, let me tell you that if she does, she is very wrong" Dis replied. "Any mother would be proud to have such a son as you. You're truthful, selfless and loyal. These are qualities I am sure she must have seen and appreciate."

Fíli shrugged. He was not so sure. He had not spent enough time with Sigrid for her to notice.

"I don't know, mother. She's not very talkative and I mostly keep to myself."

Dís nodded, gently brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

"Then you know what you have to do, my son. Spend more time with her. Get her to know you. Once she sees how wonderful you are, she won't help but fall in love with you."

Love. He had never thought of love before Sigrid had entered his life. But if it was possible for him to have feelings for her, however hard to understand they were, could it be possible for her too? He did not know that he wanted it. He did not feel prepared for it. He had tried to deny what his heart felt for her by staying apart from her as much as he could. But he realized now that life with her would not be such a big burden after all, even with her too smooth face and her height. If only she wanted him.

"Thank you, mother" he said with gratitude. "You always have the best advice. You have given me hope."

Hope that maybe if he showed Sigrid who he really was, if he stopped being afraid of her, she would open her heart to him. He smiled at Dís, planning to spend the evening with his wife and have a special dinner, when Kíli burst into the room with news.

"Uncle Thorin wants you to go negotiate a new treaty, you have to get ready to leave as soon as possible."

So much for his plans, he thought, dismayed. If Thorin wanted him to make his marriage official, then why send him away? But he would do his duty, as always.


	5. Chapter 5

Sigrid

A week ago, when Fíli had told her he had to leave, Sigrid had thought she would enjoy her freedom. But now, she found herself fretting and wishing he would be back soon. She had never been alone in the past. Really alone. There was always someone to take care of, her father, Bain, or Tilda, with whom she shared her bed. And even if Fíli slept on the chair, he was in the room with her. She never realized it before, but she missed his presence. His stout frame on the chair felt like he was watching over her. And the sound of his steady breathing often lulled her to sleep. He was reassuring, in an odd sort of way. But now, she had trouble going to sleep, just because he was not there. And her days were very lonely, even if she had permission to go to Dale whenever she wanted. It was not the same as actually living there with her family. Now she was a stranger everywhere, no longer at home with her father, but still not really at home with the dwarves.

She could see how they looked at her when she went outside. They did not understand why she was given so much freedom. They talked behind her back, whispering about how their prince was not truly wedded. There was bound to be dissent about that situation, she could see. But what could she do about it? Fill would not have her. But would he if she gave herself to him? The thought scared her. It also kept her awake at night, as she wondered what it would be like to be truly his. Did she even want it? She had no idea.

The only person who truly cared about her well-being in the Mountain was the lady Dís. And tonight, Fíli's mother had invited her to share her meal. Sigrid had accepted, grateful for Dís's invitation. There was something heavy dwelling on her mind for quite some time and she had never dared talk about it before. But Dís certainly had some expertise on the subject that she would be willing to share.

"Those are really nice mittens you're sewing, my dear!" Dís exclaimed, admiring Sigrid's handiwork. "Did you make sure to double the seam? It wouldn't do if they ripped at the first effort."

The meal was over and after helping Dís with the cleaning, Sigrid had sat with her next to the fire. They both enjoyed working on something while they chatted, and Sigrid had brought a pair of brown leather mittens she wanted to finish before Fíli's return.

"Why, yes, I did" she replied with a smile.

"I see you don't need my advice. You make such sturdy yet beautiful things" Dís said admiringly.

Sigrid was proud of her skills and sometimes, in Dale, she had felt conceited. But here in Erebor, dwarves took great pride in the work of their hands so it was never strange to boast about it.

"I'm sure my son will appreciate" Dís said, putting down her own knitting to look at Sigrid. "He likes you very much, you know."

The girl raised her eyes from her work to stare at Dís.

"Oh really?" she asked, curious to know more, but the dwarf lady only nodded at her before going back to her knitting.

Sigrid cleared her throat. "Well, that is strange, because he barely spends any time with me" she continued.

"That would be because he doesn't know how to act around you" Dís said. "Your wedding was a bit rushed, I have to say. He lacked the time to get to know you and you to know him. So, he's a bit bewildered. But that doesn't mean he doesn't like you, child."

Those words came as a surprise to the girl. She had thought he disliked her and that was why he spent as little time as possible in her company. She had taken her new role seriously and had tried to embrace it as well as she could, given the circumstances. She could not understand why he would not do the same. A husband, as a wife, had certain duties, but he was certainly reluctant to perform them. At first, it had seemed like a blessing that he would leave her alone. But as time passed, she had started to think she was bothering him.

"Do you think-" she began but was interrupted by a loud bang from the door.

Kíli rushed inside.

"Mother!" he exclaimed, ignoring Sigrid's presence. "Fíli's been hurt. They're transporting him to his halls right now. You have to come right now."

Sigrid blanched, dropping the mittens at her feet as she got up, and ran after Kíli and Dís. Her heart was racing in her chest. Fíli was hurt. He needed her. That was all she could think about.

When they reached the halls, Dís dashed up the stairs, Sigrid at her heels, but the girl tripped on the first step. She turned to see what was holding her back. Kíli was clutching her arm, preventing her from moving any further.

"No, not you" he told her.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a shrill voice, trying to wriggle free. "Let go of me! I'm his wife!"

"He doesn't want you there" Kíli answered, ill-at-ease.

"Let her come" Dís called from upstairs. "She has some knowledge of healing."

"But Mother" Kíli hesitated. "I promised Fee I wouldn't let her in."

"Great Mahal, she's his wife!" Dís said, her tone imperious. "Let her go!"

Sigrid glared at Kíli as he released her. What were they thinking? After the Battle of the Five Armies, she had helped so many wounded that she was probably the most skilled healer in the whole Mountain. She climbed the stairs in a heartbeat. But she was not prepared for the sight of Fíli lying on the bed, his clothes torn, belly strapped with makeshift bandages seeping with blood. She stopped short in the doorway, distressed, heart pounding so fast she felt dizzy. She was used to the blood, but it was her husband lying there, helpless. Right at that moment, she knew she cared about him more than she suspected. Taking a moment to recollect herself, she took several deep breaths, but it did nothing to calm the turmoil in her heart.

"If you're going to help, don't stand in the doorway" Dís said, shaking her. "Get over yourself, girl. You've seen worse before."

Oh yes, she had, Sigrid thought; but none of them was her husband. Nevertheless, Dís's words had the effect she aimed for, and the girl walked to the bed as Fíli opened his eyes.

"You - there -" he said, frowning, trying to wave her away. "Kíli, I told you-"

"Don't be silly" his mother cut him off. "Let the girl treat you."

Sigrid gave orders to boil some water and took her healing gear from the cupboard. She removed the blood-soaked bandages, afraid of what she might find under. Five long cuts lacerated Fíli's belly from one side to the other. She was relieved to see that they were not as deep as she had thought at first with the amount of blood. They would get infected if she did not clean them, though.

"What happened?" she asked as she worked. "What did this to you?"

"We were ambushed in the woods" Fíli explained. "A pack of Orcs with wargs. We killed them all, but one of the wargs slashed at me."

The cleaning was a painful process, as she had to go over all the length of each cut and they were all pretty large. But not once did he wince. She had seen men cry in pain with wounds half as severe as his. She admired his strength, his tenacity. Dwarves were extremely robust and strong-willed, but Fíli was certainly the bravest of them all. How proud she was of having such a husband!

"Any other wounded?" she inquired, surprised at the feelings that were colliding in her head.

He shook his head. "No. No other."

"If you are done, maybe we should leave you" Dís said, retreating outside with Kíli.

Sigrid nodded as she finished dressing the wound. When everybody was gone, she sat on the bed and looked at her husband straight in the eyes.

"I'm afraid I have bad news for you" she said. "You'll have to stay in bed at least several days. I know you dwarves heal faster but those gashes are deep and if you move, you're going to reopen them."

He was not going to like it, she thought. He was always out and about, avoiding her. But now there was no way he could leave the room.

"As you say" Fíli sighed, taking her hand. "I'm glad my wife has such knowledge. And impressed as well."

She raised one eyebrow. "Then why wouldn't you let me in?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me like that" he said, shaking his head. "I know now it was a mistake."

His thumb was caressing the back of her hand and she could feel his calluses against her skin. Was it respect in his eyes? Was Dís right? Did he like her? The touch of his fingers elicited a strange warmth inside of her but she did not remove her hand. She smiled at him, bending slightly to brush a strand of hair from his face. She almost gasped as she realized for the first time how soft it was.

"Close your eyes, my dear" she whispered. "You're exhausted and need your rest."

"But what about you? Where will you sleep?" he asked, smiling back at her.

"The chair will do just fine" she answered.

She watched over him all night and not once did he let go of her hand.

Morning came and Sigrid stretched. Fíli was still sleeping, and she disentangled her fingers to go downstairs and prepare breakfast. He would not spend another night on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture, she decided as her joints cracked from staying in the chair for so long.

For several days, she went on with the same routine. She brought him his meals, cleaned the wound regularly and changed the bandages. She stayed with him day and night, sewing, knitting, reading. She only left the bedroom to cook, and in this she was fortunate to count on Dís's help. Fíli's mother and his brother Kíli came every day to check on him but there was nothing more any of them could do. Sigrid knew her job well and the cuts healed fast. He would still have huge scars, though. But what was one more?

Thorin came once, and Sigrid left him alone with his nephew. When he got out, he stared at her with intent eyes before getting on his way. He made her uncomfortable. She never knew what he was thinking. He was so proud! She was glad that Fíli did not seem to share much of his traits.

In a way, she felt grateful for the wound because it meant Fíli had to stay with her at all times. She enjoyed tending him, even if being confined made him moody at times. Moody she could understand. It was his previous indifference and lack of interest in her that troubled her before. Moody was an improvement, because it did not mean he was not appreciative of what she did for him. It was only that staying in bed made him restless. She had to scold him each time he tried to get up, because no matter how fast the cuts healed, he still needed to stay put or they would reopen.

After a few days however, she finally agreed to help him on his feet. She could see his relief as he took a few steps. It must still be painful but again, he would not let it show. She longed to keep him all to herself, but he was not a baby to be coddled. For the first time, she thought maybe that was what she needed. A child. And she would not mind if the child had Fíli's blond hair and clear eyes. Her cheeks burned at the idea.

"What is it?" Fíli asked, noticing her embarrassment.

"Nothing" she replied, looking away.

She fetched his tunic and handed it to him. His muscles rippled as he put it on and she watched, wondering what it would feel like to have him hold her in those strong arms of his. Her cheeks coloured even more.

"What?" he asked again.

She swallowed hard, trying to put those thoughts away from her mind.

"Well, there is one thing" she finally said.

She had been thinking about it for a long time but as it was not in the dwarves customs, she had not dared ask before. But now that she felt more at ease with him, maybe time had come to ask him.

"I would like you to take me out and show me around" she continued.

Fíli's brows furrowed. "Show you around?"

"You are heir to Erebor" she explained, "and I'm your wife. It would be fitting if I knew everything about how the Mountain works. The mines, the forges. Everything."

"You want to know about that?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

She nodded eagerly. "Why, yes, of course. Everything you do is of interest to me. And I know so little about what you do when you're out."

He did not answer right away and she thought she had made a mistake. Maybe it was not proper at all to meddle in his private affairs. But they were married and there were things he needed to share with her. How could she be the future ruler's wife if she did not know anything about how the Mountain worked. Dís had told her a few things but she felt it was hardly sufficient.

"Well?" she asked. "What do you say?"

"I say that I'm quite astonished" he finally said, wetting his lips before continuing. "But if you're really serious about it, I can show you around and explain everything to you. It's going to be most tedious, though."

She smiled, almost jumping in his arms in her enthusiasm.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Oh, and before I forget, you're not sleeping in the chair tonight."

"But neither are you" he said. "So, where will you sleep?"

"We will both sleep in the bed, like any married couple" she replied, certain he would not agree, but hoping she could make him change his mind.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "Yes, I'm sure. Unless-"

"Unless what?"

She paused, looking down.

"Unless you find me so disgusting that you don't want to sleep near me" she said in a whisper.

That was it. She had finally said the thing that had been bothering her for weeks. She felt relieved. At least, now she would know. She was still staring at her feet when Fíli's fingers touched her chin, raising her face until he could look her in the eyes.

"Why would you even think that?" he asked, taking a step forward.

Sigrid held her breath as he continued. "Sigrid, you are-" he hesitated. "You are b-"

At that moment, Kíli entered the room, booming: "How are you, big brother?"

Fíli stepped backwards, releasing her face, cheeks coloured a slight shade of pink under his beard.

"Don't you knock?" he asked Kíli.

"Am I interrupting something?" the younger dwarf said with a wink. "Just pretend I'm not here!"

"Kíli!" Dís scolded him as she stood in the doorway. "Fíli's right. You don't barge in other people's rooms like this! Especially in their own chamber."

"Yes, Mother" Kíli answered meekly.

Sigrid went out to fetch some refreshments for their guests, wondering what Fíli had wanted to say. Thinking about what might have happened if Kíli had not barged in.

That night, as she went to bed next to her husband, she longed to ask him to finish his sentence. But it was already enough to know that she did not repel him. To lie down next to him and feel his body warm the sheets. She curled to the side, watching him sleep, afraid to make a move that might wake him up. All she wanted was to rest her head on his shoulder but she dared not. She stayed awake for a long time, listening to his breathing. Yet slumber finally caught up with her after all those nights spent on the chair.


	6. Chapter 6

Fíli

Fíli awoke with the sun in his eyes, as so often happened. What was more surprising was his wife's head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. A single ray of sunlight brightened her golden brown hair. He could smell its sweet scent, feel her warmth against him, and a fuzzy sensation arose in him. He quickly slipped out of bed so as not to wake her up and proceeded to check on his wound to change his mind. Sigrid had done a great job. Already, the cuts scabbed properly. He would have nasty scars but it could have been worse.

She stirred in the bed, placing her head on his pillow in her sleep. He reflected that not so long ago, he could not say whether or not he found her pretty, and now she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had almost told her but Kíli had prevented him. The moment had passed. How could he ever tell her now without being embarrassed?

He had been surprised that she had insisted to tend him herself. He had thought she would not care, but she had gone to great length to ensure him the best of recoveries. She had refused to let anybody but his close family inside. At first, he had found it annoying to spend all his days confined. And why was she not leaving? He was just wounded, not dying. Then he had met her eyes and seen in it the ghosts of so many dead, close to her or not. He knew she had lost her mother. She had probably witnessed more deaths than he, even in her shorter life. He had not had the heart to tell her off.

And oddly enough, it had not been unpleasant. Dís had said they needed to spend more time together and the wound was the perfect excuse for that. At first, he had not known what to say to her, so he had observed her. She was quiet but not shy as he had thought, and her hands were the gentlest that had ever touched him. Each time her fingers brushed him, it left him with a longing for more. He felt a bit guilty about that, because she was only checking the wound and it was not supposed to arouse him. But he could not deny the effect she had on him.

They talked more too. There was nothing else to do, so they chatted. About little things. Her family. Books she read. She had a flush on her cheeks and her voice lowered a bit when she talked about things she liked. Her smile rearranged all her features and made her eyes brighter. She who had a rather dull and grim expression suddenly became radiant and warm. Dís had said Sigrid was no great beauty but he had to disagree with her on this. When his wife smiled, Fíli could only think about kissing her. Ah, why did Kíli have to interrupt them? He always had the worst timing ever!

"Good morning" he heard from the bed.

Sigrid was awake and stretching under the blankets.

"Good morning" he answered with a soft smile, refraining from calling her "love".

She smiled back, still a little drowsy with sleep.

"How did you sleep?" he asked.

She yawned. "Well enough, I guess. Though not as much as I would have liked. I was afraid of hurting you, with your wound still mending."

She had no knowledge how close to him she had finished the night, but it made him happy nonetheless. It showed she was comfortable enough with him. He knew she used to share her bed with her younger sister Tilda, back when she was living in Laketown. Surely she had held her sister the same way? It boded well for their future together. Although he was not sure how fast he wanted for things to happen.

They broke their fast together and, as she had requested, Fíli took Sigrid out on a tour of Erebor. He showed her the mines, even taking her on one of the suspended chairs the dwarves used.

"Are you sure it's safe?" she asked, testing the iron chains that secured it.

"I'll be there with you, don't worry" he answered with a wink.

She sat on his lap and he wrapped his arms around her as he lowered the chair down the mine. She gripped him, closing her eyes with a little gasp.

"Open your eyes, Sigrid!"

To his great pleasure, she smiled as she saw the wonders of Erebor around her, the streaks of gold reflected by the many oil lamps the dwarves wore to see where they were delving.

"Oh Fíli! It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, her smiling face so close to his he could have kissed her.

There were too many witnesses, though. He wanted a quieter scenery for their first kiss to happen.

Next, he showed her where they delved the gems, diamonds and sapphires like the ones he had given her. Her eyes shone with delight as he explained how they shaped them. But it was nothing next to the interest she showed in the forge. The machinery was so huge, the rooms so immense. At one point, he felt her fingers clutch his hand.

"Don't worry, my dear" he said. "I will not lose you."

"I've never seen anything like this before. It's- It's breathtaking. I had no idea-"

Her emotion was so perceptible, she had to sit down for a while.

"Will you show me how to make a sword?" she asked when she was recovered.

"I could, but I'm not very good at it. You should ask Thorin. He's the best smith I know!"

Sigrid shrugged.

"What?" Fíli asked.

"I don't think your uncle likes me" she replied, making a face. "Besides, he's the King. He would not lower himself to show me."

Fíli chuckled at her grimace. "I think you're wrong. And if he doesn't like you, he's a fool."

It made Sigrid laugh too. "I'm afraid you have too high an opinion of me."

"Sigrid" he said very seriously, staring into her eyes. "You are the best wife anybody could wish for."

"You're flattering me, my lord" she said, her laughter echoing in the vast halls. "But technically I'm still not your wife."

"I don't care what they're saying" he replied, blushing under his beard.

There was nothing he wanted more than to see this situation change.

"But seeing all this, all Erebor, it made me realize-" she said, changing the subject.

He looked at her quizzically.

"I don't know. I feel so very small, so insignificant. This is where you belong. Not I."

"Is this truly what you believe?"

He was disappointed. He thought she had enjoyed the tour. She certainly seemed to understand everything he had told her, no matter how technical.

She sighed. "It's- overwhelming."

"You'll get used to it. As you got used to me."

"Yes" she finally agreed. "You're right. It cannot be that hard."

With those words, she poked him playfully.

"But now I guess it's time to go back home and have something to eat."

"Oh yes, great idea! I'm famished! I'm not used to skipping lunch!" he complained, rolling his eyes as he faked a terrible hunger.

He snaked an arm around hers as they walked back to their halls. Other dwarves eyed them curiously, but he could not care less.

"The only thing is that I've been under the Mountain for so long, I need some fresh hair" Sigrid said when they arrived.

Of course, she would. She had not been out since he had come back wounded.

"Do you want to eat outside?" he suggested. "Maybe a sort of picnic."

She nodded eagerly. "You really don't mind?"

"Of course not. Whatever makes you happy."

"You're the best of husbands" she said with a happy smile.

How had it come to this? How did they become so relaxed? So close? He had no idea but he certainly did not mind.

"Please Sigrid, will you sing for me?" Fíli asked.

It was late in the evening and they were sitting on a blanket in the grass, in between the Mountain and Dale. The first stars were showing in the sky, tiny bright dots in the darkness. But with the full moon, it was hard to notice them. Fíli had taken out his pipe, as was his habit after dinner, and Sigrid had already put away the remnants of their meal, expecting them to go back home as soon as they were finished. But Fíli had something else in mind.

He had first heard her sing when he was lying in bed, still recovering. Thinking he was sleeping, she had started humming very softly. He had opened his eyes when she was done and had asked her for more. This time, she had put some lyrics to her tune and it had been magical. He had never suspected she had such a talent. Her voice was not deep but a bit raw with a raspy quality to it. The overall effect was surprisingly soothing, a little like her hands. It fascinated him, also because her face relaxed completely as she sang. Just like her smile, it made her beautiful.

"Are you sure?" Sigrid said.

As always, his request for a song embarrassed her for some reason he could not understand.

Fíli nodded as he lit up his pipe and started smoking, sending rings of smoke out in the sky. She started humming at first, not looking at anything in particular, eyes half-closed, as if it helped her concentrate. The moonlight was shining on her, and a light breeze gave life to the tiny wisps of hair that always framed her face. Then she began singing full voice, and the emotion she always put in it almost brought tears to his eyes. He had to close them to prevent the tears from falling. Then it was over and silence fell all around them. She was staring in the distance, as if in a daze.

He opened his eyes very slowly and put aside his pipe.

"I have never heard anything so beautiful as your voice" he said in a whisper, afraid to break the silence.

"We should probably go back now" she replied, but Fíli was lying back down on the blanket, his head on her lap.

"Let's stay a few moments more" he requested and she did not protest.

He knew how she loved being in the open, especially after all those days when she had not dared leave his side.

She started humming again, of her own volition, her fingers absently toying with his hair. Fíli shuddered, suddenly filled with a longing for her he knew only one thing could sate. Earlier that day, they had been so close and he had felt the urge of kissing her. It was stronger than ever now. He raised himself on one elbow to look at her, and she smiled at him, still humming. He did not smile back. His breath came in and out faster than he realized. He slipped a finger in between two buttons of her blouse and started pulling her gently to him. She stopped her humming, smile fading, eyes expectant.

His nose brushed hers before he touched her lips for the first time, almost afraid she would pull away. But she did not. Instead, she pressed her mouth further into his and he had to open his mouth slightly. They stayed like that for a moment, lips searching for each other, unaware of the rather uncomfortable position.

He released her and sat up, cupping her face in his hands. She was breathing fast too, cheeks a bit flushed and eyes too bright. His thumb stroked her cheek as he kissed her again, this time more assuredly. He knew it now, in his heart. This hunger, this longing for her was gone. There was no more unrest, just peace and the certainty that he belonged to her as she belonged to him. The little sigh she gave as their lips parted was like a promise of things yet to come, and her smile before she buried her face in his hair told him everything he needed to know. Love. It was love. It had taken its time but now he knew it would never leave him.

She leaned further into him, fingers twining in his hair, breathing him in. His own hands had moved to the nape of her neck and were caressing her soft skin. Flashes of their wedding night came back to him, how white her skin had looked as he helped her undress. His mouth was hungry now, and he pecked small kisses all the way from her neck back to her lips. This time, he was almost forceful, grazing her teeth, and she opened her mouth to let him claim her. He could feel the warmth of her whole body pressed against his and he longed to push her back down on the blanket. But no, this would hardly do. He had to restrain himself. Everything needed to be perfect.

He pulled away from her, gasping for air, desperately trying to temporize. But she came at him, nuzzling him, rubbing her cheek against his beard before placing soft kisses all over his face.

"Sigrid" he protested. "Stop."

She looked at him, puzzled. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He shook his head vehemently. "You're doing everything perfectly. In fact, it's so perfect that I need time to collect myself. I guess I want you too much."

She gasped at the implications but smiled and nestled herself in the nook of his arms. She kissed his neck all the way up to his ear.

"You could have me here and I would not protest" she murmured.

Had he heard alright? She wanted him too? So much so that she would not mind doing it here in the open? A wave of heat suddenly went through his body, making him shiver with expectation.

"But if you prefer, we can wait until we come back home. Just not too long" she continued, nibbling at his ear.

He swallowed hard. He was not sure how long he could wait. His whole body already throbbed with desire for her. He jumped on his feet and helped her stand.

"Then let's go home" he said.

She took his arm as they walked back to the Mountain.


	7. Chapter 7

Sigrid

As they were walking back to their halls, Sigrid caught several stares and glances in their direction. Her flushed cheeks and the way she clutched Fíli's arm were probably the cause. As well as the fact that they must cut a strange picture, with her almost a full head taller than him. It was the first day they were seen out of their halls together since the wedding. Of course, they would attract curiosity. But she did not mind. He had kissed her. Under the light of the moon, he had put his lips on hers and her heart had melted instantly. She had been waiting all day long, for what she did not know, until that very moment when, wrapped in his embrace, she had felt her own body awaken with desire. She was sure, now. She wanted him as much as he seemed to want her.

He had kissed her. She still could not quite believe it, but the taste of him was still in her mouth, warm and a little smoky. She had always wondered what was so enjoyable about it when she saw couples kiss. She used to turn away in distaste, failing to see what was so special about it. Now she knew. This light-headed sensation, as if she was falling down. The flutters in her stomach. Her heart beating so fast she was almost breathless. The world disappearing around her, except for him, his body, his lips her only link to reality. It was like drowning, and she was helpless to resist. She wanted to drown with him, melt in his arms until she was just a puddle of nameless sensations.

It was all new to her, from the tingling feeling of his beard against her skin to the distinct scent of his hair, leather and smoke mingled together, and something else, faintly metallic. She could not get enough. Her body was responding in ways she had never felt before. She had heard herself say such words as she never thought would come out of her mouth. And she meant them. With all her heart. All her soul. As she had not meant her vows at the wedding. Dimly, she realized this was it. True marriage.

She remembered how she had resisted, how she had cried in the endless torments of the night when Tilda slept and she could at last let go. How cruel she had thought her father was. How revulsed she had been at the idea of doing exactly what she now craved within the very core of her body. She gripped Fíli's arm harder now, suddenly regretting they had not done it outside. Anxiety was creeping in the back of her brain now. What if he did not like her after all? What if he changed his mind?

She looked down at him as they reached their halls, worried that the magic was lost for waiting too long. But as soon as the door was closed, he caught her in his arms, his mouth leaving a trail of burning kisses on her neck. She gasped, body tightening, hands twitching on the leather of his coat. He hissed in frustration as he tried to reach her mouth, raising himself on the tip of his toes. She bent to give him access and she was swept off once again. Nothing else existed but his lips giving her life, setting her body and mind afire.

He released her after what seemed like an eternity, his breath hard and fast. Taking her hand, he led her upstairs to the bedroom, almost making her stumble on the steps in his haste. He swiftly got rid of his heavy cloak and belt, which fell on the floor with a loud clatter. He pulled off his overtunic, ruffling his hair in the process.

Sigrid felt her insides rip apart as she watched him undress. Her husband. Her handsome golden lion. Was there ever a time when the sight of him did not move her to tears? Her lips suddenly felt dry and she moistened them, shuddering with anticipation. She started to undo the first buttons of her bodice when he stopped her, pushing her hands away.

"Let me help you with that" he said, his voice suddenly raspy.

There was no need, it was not like her wedding dress. But she let him have his way, not even aware that she held her breath until all her clothes lay around her on the floor. She stepped out of them, standing in only her shift, the top of which was held by a single knot. He untied it, and the hem fell, revealing her shoulders. She caught it on her breasts, instinctively. Afraid he would not like what he saw.

He paid no mind, turning her to unpin her hair. She felt like a rag doll in his hands, suddenly aware of how large they were. How every touch of them elicited tiny shivers that would not stop. Her hair fell in long ripples on her shoulders and back and he clung to her, arms around her waist, face buried in her locks. She could feel his heart racing in his chest, echoing the beatings of her own heart.

They stayed like that for a long time, entwined, until his hands moved to hers, parting them from her bosom. He cupped her breasts over the light fabric of her shift, her nipples suddenly hardening against his coarse palms. She arched her back with a strangled moan.

"Fíli-"

His mouth searched for her skin amidst her hair, nipping at her, as his hands caressed her all the way down to her hips.

"I want you so much" he growled, pressing his crotch against her.

Her body shivered at his words.

"I want you too" she murmured so low she was not sure he could hear.

She turned to face him, shedding her shift in the process, and took hold of his undertunic. She pulled it quickly over his head but gasped as it revealed his still healing wound. She had quite forgotten about it, and how it must still hurt him.

"Are you sure-?" she asked, hesitant.

"Why?" he asked, brow crinkling. "Are you not?"

She traced the scabs with a light finger, afraid of giving him pain. "Maybe it's a bit early-"

He shrugged. "I don't feel a thing."

It was probably not a boast. Dwarves healed faster and were said to be almost immune to pain.

"Come" he continued, leading her to the bed where he sat down, his eyes feasting on her naked flesh.

"You're so beautiful" he said, pulling at her until she sat on top of him.

Their chests collided as he kissed her frantically, his hands rubbing her back. She was surprised but delighted to find that his chest hair was not coarse as she had thought. It felt soft against her breasts, tingling her slightly as his beard tickled her face. A wild fire blazed in her belly and she moaned in his mouth, fingers clutching at his strong shoulders. She felt very small in his arms. Very small and very vulnerable.

He released her, panting hard.

"Sigrid" he said, clear eyes staring at her. "Will you have me, body and soul?"

She took a deep breath, answering from the depths of her heart. "Yes, my love. I will."

"My love" he whispered back at her, his voice raw with desire.

Their vows were exchanged once more, there was nothing else to say. He pushed her on the bed, kicking off his boots and getting rid of his breeches. Before she knew it, he had opened her legs and was inside her.

She winced as pain suddenly flashed. Remembering faintly what Dís had said about the wedding night, she tried to relax as he thrust deeper. She whimpered, his weight making it hard for her to breathe. Was it supposed to be that way? Surely he could rest his weight somewhere else than on her chest.

"Fíli-" she managed to say.

"What?" he asked, plunging harder in her.

"You're crushing me."

"Sorry" he said, shifting his weight on his arms, never stopping his motions.

She sighed, finally able to release her breath. The pain of the first thrust was gone. She felt a low buzz instead and her hands moved to his hips as he slid back and forth, again and again, each time harder, each time deeper. She gasped, clutching at him, feeling something melt inside of her. She started moving her hips, following his pace.

"Sigrid" she heard him groan. "Yes. Like that."

His body suddenly tightened and he came inside of her. It was over. He stayed panting above her then rolled aside on the bed, a satisfied smile painted on his face.

It had all happened so fast. She did not know if it was normal but he certainly seemed content. She closed her legs and he turned to look at her, still smiling. He proceeded to kiss every part of her he could reach, the beads from his moustache cold against her skin.

"It was so good" he finally said, beaming at her. "Was it good also for you?"

He seemed to be genuinely concerned he had performed well. And in truth, she had enjoyed it, much more than she would have thought.

"Yes" she replied, kissing him back.

Her body was still throbbing with unresolved desire. Was it always that fast? she wondered. He probably had no more idea than she.

He looked at her, brows furrowed.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded, placing a swift kiss on his lips.

He sighed, reassured. "I'm thirsty, though. I need to drink something. Do you want anything?"

She shook her head, staring at the bed canopy as he got up.

While Fíli was gone, Sigrid went out of bed to pick up her shift and put it back on, shivering. Then she folded all of her husband's clothes and neatly settled them on the chair. As she gathered his overtunic, she brought it to her face and took a deep whiff of it. She could never get enough of his musky scent.

"Back in your shift so soon?"

She turned to answer.

"I was-" she started, but the sight of him stark naked in front of her took all speech from her.

She was familiar with his chest, having seen it countless times as she treated his wound. His large shoulders and strong arms, the left one covered with strange and intricate tattoos that continued on his shoulder blade. His broad chest and belly chiseled by years of hard labour and the handling of weapons. But the rest of him left her breathless. His thighs were incredibly muscular, if a bit short. Anybody else would have looked awkward. He, on the other hand, moved with a cat-like grace, all his muscles rippling in harmony.

"Are you alright?" he asked, brows knitting.

Suddenly aware she was gawking, Sigrid tried to look away, in vain. She wanted to tell him how handsome and how utterly desirable she found him. But words escaped her.

"No" she said, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "I don't think I am."

He raised one eyebrow.

This was the stupidest thing she had ever said but she could not help herself. Her eyes trailed on his member and a sudden urge to have it buried in her clouded all her judgement. Cheeks burning, she untied her shift and let it fall at her feet. Hopefully, he would take the hint.

In an instant, he was upon her, grinding against her, face deep in her chest, hands hard and demanding. She gave a little squeal as he gripped her butt and lifted her. She took hold of his shoulders for balance and wrapped her legs around him, feeling him harden in between her thighs. His mouth suckling at her breasts sent uncontrollable shivers through her spine and she moaned, nails digging in his flesh.

He carried her to the bed and she fell on the sheets. He stroked the inside of her thighs with urgency, opening them further. A single slow thrust of his hips and he entered her, until he could go no further.

"Fíli" she sighed, back arching, out of control.

He drew back, equally slowly.

Her insides on fire, Sigrid moaned louder, even more aroused than before. He was taking his time, his thrusts each time more precise, hands running on her body, brushing her nipples, cupping her breasts. How could it be so good? How did he know what to do to drive her insane? It was like a secret alchemy. A magic that only he possessed.

She started moving in rhythm with him, raising her hips to meet him, so eager she was to feel him deeper inside of her. She never wanted it to stop. She wanted it to go on endlessly. It was like torture, but so sweet she could have died right here, right now, in his strong arms.

Suddenly, he quickened the pace and she cried out as pleasure consumed her body. She clutched at the sheets, trying to keep up with him. One of his hands moved to her hip, maintaining her in position. The other grabbed her own hand and they twined fingers. He brought it over her head as she arched her back even further, writhing in ecstasy.

She felt her walls close on him as she shook with her release, crying out his name. He followed soon after, blessing her with his semen, collapsing on top of her with a loud sigh.

This time, she did not mind his weight. She wrapped her arms around him as he panted with exertion, trying to catch his breath, damp with sweat. His heart was pounding against her chest. She waited for its beats to return to normal, stroking his hair as softly as she could.

After a little while, he rolled over, dragging her on top of him and kissing her gently.

"Well" he said, still a bit out of breath. "That was much better."

Sigrid smiled, biting her lips. Release had been dazzling, to say the least. It was as if all her life had led her to that brightest of moments. But the aftermath was not bad. Not bad at all. To think that just a little while ago, she had been terrified to sleep with him in this very bed. Now she could not imagine sleeping anywhere else.

She slid aside him, nestling her head on his shoulder, breathing him in. He snaked an arm around her waist to keep her close, nose rubbing the top of her head. Just before she drifted in the world of dreams, she heard him whisper in her hear: "Love of my life."


	8. Chapter 8

Fíli

Loud bangs on the front door awoke Fíli from his deep slumber. The sun was already shining bright in their chamber, filling the whole room with its warmth. What time was it? Sigrid was still fast asleep, curled against him, arm resting on his chest. He did not want to get up. Could he not have a moment of peace? The bangs resumed, even louder. There was nothing for it. He had to go and see what it was.

He got up and slipped on his undertunic that Sigrid had folded so neatly during the night. Rushing down the stairs, he could hear a well-known voice calling him as the bangs stopped. Kíli and his impeccable sense of timing. Why did he always have to ruin everything?

"I'm coming" he said, more than annoyed, pulling the door open.

Kíli sighed with relief.

"I was starting to believe you were dead!" he exclaimed with a wink.

"What do you want?" Fíli hissed, praying his brother would leave so he could return to bed with Sigrid.

"Don't tell me you were still in bed" Kíli chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Kee, can you please make less noise" Fíli said, stepping out, leaving the door half open behind him. "Sigrid's still sleeping."

"What have you two been doing, all night long, I wonder" Kíli said with a cheerful smile, winking at his brother. "There are rumors-"

"That is none of your business" Fíli replied, his cheeks coloring bright crimson.

"Oooooooh" Kíli gaped. "So the rumors are true. You two are finally-"

The younger dwarf moved his arms back and forth, miming the sexual act.

"Well then, congrats, Fee!" he continued, clapping Fíli hard on the shoulder, laughing out loud.

"Can you keep it down, for Mahal's sake?" Fíli snapped.

"What's going on?" a sleepy female voice called from inside.

Sigrid was walking down the stairs, in her shift, blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

"See what you've done?" Fíli snorted at his brother. "It's just Kíli, my love. Go back to sleep" he told his wife, his tone considerably softer.

"Back to sleep? Don't you know what time it is?" Kíli asked, still guffawing.

Fíli glared at him.

"Great Mahal! You have no idea, do you?" the younger dwarf asked, finally sobering up. "Thorin is going to be so angry!"

Fíli frowned in a desperate attempt to remember. What was he missing? What was so important that his brother had to bang on his door. Did Thorin summon him? It came back all of a sudden.

"The council!" he exclaimed, hand clapping his forehead.

Kíli nodded as his brother rushed inside to get dressed.

"Oh Fee, you're so going to catch it! I feel for you."

"I'm sorry, love" Fíli told Sigrid. "I have to go."

He hopped on one leg, putting on his boots as he hurried past her.

"I'll see you later" he said, stealing one kiss from her, and was gone.

"Or not" Kíli winked at her before leaving. "Thorin will be mighty pissed!" he exclaimed, his laughter echoing in the vast halls.

"You're late" Thorin stated coldly as Fíli entered the council chamber.

Fíli fidgeted, uneasy. He had overslept, to be sure, but how could he tell his uncle the very reason for his lateness was that he had finally done what Thorin wanted? All the other members of the council were staring at him, among them Balin and Dwalin. Some were whispering and glancing at him. Kíli had mentioned rumors. This was quite embarrassing. He hoped he would not have to explain.

"You did not wait for me, I gather" he finally said.

Thorin glowered at him.

"I heard you took your wife to the mines and forges, knowing full well women are not allowed there."

So, that was the real reason for Thorin's anger. He had broken the rule and as prince, he had to be chided in front of everyone. There had been a time when he had accepted all this as part of his learning process. But he was not a boy anymore. There was no need for Thorin to do this in front of the whole council. Although Fíli knew it was not wise to antagonize his uncle, he could not refrain from stating his thoughts on the subject.

"Dwarf-women, yes, uncle" he said, holding Thorin's glare. "But Sigrid is not a dwarf, and she expressed curiosity. I fail to see how that hurts. Besides, those are rules from another time, and you're the first one to ask my mother for her advice" he continued, pressing his point further.

Balin coughed, casting a glance at his king. Thorin was fuming.

"Do not cross me, sister's son. One day-"

"I know the tune, uncle" Fíli cut him boldly. "One day, I'll be king and I'll understand. The truth is, I do not understand. And I don't think I ever will."

Balin coughed again. "The lad has a point, Thorin. But maybe we could go back to the subject of this meeting."

"How dare you?" Thorin scowled at Fíli, stepping forward, his face just an inch away from his nephew's. "I raised you. I made you who you are. Blood of my blood. Son of Durin. And this is how you talk to me. Because of a woman! You forget your place."

"It was you who arranged the union! You made it happen. I didn't ask for anything, yet I did as I was told. Out of respect for you." Fíli would not back down. "You have nothing to reproach me with. The marriage is consummated. Isn't that what you asked me to do?"

This was not exactly how he had intended to break the news to Thorin, but at least now there could be no doubt about it.

The king gaped. Balin looked at Dwalin as a tremor ran through the council chamber. It was common knowledge that Thorin resented Fíli's behavior at the wedding and they had all tried to make him see reason. But the contract was clear, and Bard would have had to pay back the bride-price had nothing happened between husband and wife. Balin sighed with relief while the other counsellors cheered and congratulated Fíli.

The young dwarf prince was still frowning at his uncle, unaware of the commotion surrounding them. Thorin looked at everyone, his face relaxing slowly. Then, he caught his nephew in his embrace. Their foreheads touched as Thorin clasped arms with Fíli.

"Well done, my sister's son."

How weird that Thorin should be proud of him. As if that was an accomplishment worthy of remembrance. As if he had done well on the battlefield. None of them knew what it felt like, to be chosen, to be singled out by the woman of their dreams. They would probably never know. He could not tell them. The joy. The utter happiness he had felt in her arms, when their bodies were one and the same as they exulted with pleasure. The peace of sleeping entwined with her. The sense of harmony when she smiled. It was as if the world had finally come together. All his life, he had done the things that were expected of him. Because he wanted to please Thorin. Because he wanted to impress him, even. But it had seldom been his own decisions.

Being with Sigrid was different. Although it had been imposed on him at first, he knew that he would not have made love to her if he had not wanted it. And he knew it was the same for her. He had felt as he once had, in Laketown, when he had defied Thorin and chosen to stay behind with his brother. He had made another choice. Sigrid. He could breathe easy now, because he was free. No longer would Thorin command him.

"Don't you think you could make an exception for Sigrid?" he asked Thorin. "I mean, she has a lot to learn and it would be so much faster if she could see instead of just be told."

Thorin grumbled.

"Come on, Thorin" Balin intervened. "What harm can it do? The lass is eager to learn and embrace her role. At least, let her come to the library. I'd be more than glad to help."

"Thank you for the offer, Balin" Fíli said, grateful for the old scholar's kindness.

The council resumed without further ado, but before he left the chamber, Fíli heard Dwalin tell his brother: "Well, the boy has some mettle in him. He'll make a fine king one day."

He came back home at once, although there were still many tasks waiting for him.

"I'm back, little love!" he called as he pushed the door.

Only silence answered him. He found a note on the table: "Went to Dale. Be back in the evening."

He sighed heavily, disappointed. Throughout the whole council, the thought of coming back to her had never left his mind. But apparently, it was not the same for her. He tried to reason himself. She had been stuck inside for days, watching over him. It was only natural that she would go outside now and pay her family a visit. He had given her the freedom. He had been fighting to give her more just hours before. Why did his heart twist in his chest? Why this sudden pain?

She was all he could think about. The sweetness of her smile. The warmth of her body. The softness of her thighs. It was like an obsession. He craved her presence, the sound of her voice, the rich smell of her hair. And hot wet kisses everywhere. Her moans of pleasure still rang in his ears. The taste of her mouth, her skin so smooth and tender. He swallowed hard, fists clenching. He ached for her and there was no way he could quench that thirst now.

He took his tools and got out, heading for the forges. Work would take his mind away from her. Or so he hoped.

He labored, relentlessly, to the point of forgetting to have some lunch. But still, in his mind, the image of her would not leave him. He wanted her with an eagerness that was even more acute now. Why had she left? Did she not feel the same? Had he not told her he would be back soon? He cursed her family, immediately regretting such thoughts had ever entered his mind.

It was evening when he stopped, one idea stuck in his head. He went outside the Mountain. The sun was already setting behind the city of Dale. The whole valley was ablaze with a red dusk, almost like the fires from the forges. After the desolation left by the dragon, nature had come back and flowers were growing everywhere. He knew where her favorite ones were to be found. Even if the thought of climbing atop Ravenhill brought back memories better left alone, he wanted to please her. As if to atone for his angry thoughts.

He came back home, a bunch of tiny lilac-colored flowers in his arms, and there she was, preparing supper. Beige apron on a dark blue dress, hair tied back in her usual knot.

She turned as she heard his step behind her.

"These are for me?" she asked, her gaze falling on the flowers.

He nodded.

"Oh Fíli, you shouldn't have" she said.

"The halls felt empty without them" he explained.

She kissed the corner of his mouth as she took the flowers, a bit shy.

"I missed you" he said, following her as she put them in a vase.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her, resting his cheek on her shoulder blades. She tightened in his embrace and tilted her head back. He gently nibbled the soft skin of her neck then turned her around to stare in her grey eyes.

"But look at you" she said, wiping soot from his face with a brush of her fingers. "Looks like you've been working all day. Shall I prepare a bath?"

He agreed. It would not hurt to clean all the sweat and the coal soot.

She slipped out of his arms to heat some water. She moved with accurate precision, never wasting a single gesture. But there was a grace about her he had not noticed before. She was strong too, carrying heavy buckets of water and pouring them in the copper tub. But it was no reason not to help her. As always, she looked surprised as he took one of the pails from her hands. It seemed she still thought a prince should not do those things himself. But how did she think he managed before her?

"Fíli, no" she protested. "Let me-"

"I don't mind doing it" he said.

"But it's hardly suitable" she replied. "And it's my duty."

"Duty?" he asked, stopping to look at her. "Was it duty too when we were in bed yesterday?"

"No" she whispered, barely daring to return his gaze. "No, it wasn't."

He shook his head, getting out of his clothes to step in the bath.

"Both of us, we've always done our duty. We've always tried to please other people. My uncle. Your father. Don't you think it's time we started enjoying ourselves?"

He took her hands and pulled her to him to kiss her.

"And now you need a bath too!" he said, rubbing his sooty nose on hers playfully.

She never stayed when he had a bath. She prepared it and then she left, retreating to the bedroom. But now that they were intimate, it was different. He was not really aroused yet, but he had missed her and he wanted to feel her naked body against him. He wanted to caress every inch of her, find out where she liked it best, which parts of her were the most sensitive.

His hands were already moving to undo the buttons of her blouse, but she stood up away from him.

"Take your dirty hands away from my clothes" she said impishly, and untied the knot of her apron at the back of her waist.

He held out his breath as Sigrid slowly undid all her buttons, one by one, slipping out of her blouse with a graceful motion of her shoulders. Her skirt was tied with a tiny string on which she pulled, letting it fall down at her feet in long ripples.

He desperately wanted to rip her shift away from her, tear it apart until it revealed her skin, but he waited for her to take it off. When it was done, she just stood, arms at her sides, biting her lips, as if unsure what to do next.

He could not stop staring at her, at the tiny freckles on her shoulders, at the way her skin shimmered in the fire light. She had firm and proud breasts and a belly that was not quite flat. Round hips and long straight legs that seemed endless to him. She was not exactly the tallest woman he had ever seen, but from where he sat, she towered over him, and it was not unpleasant to have to look up to contemplate her in all her beauty.

His breathed faster now, unable to take his eyes away from her. But she was not finished yet. She reached for the back of her head, unpinning her hair. Her heavy braid fell on her shoulder as she shivered, instinctively crossing her arms on her bosom to keep warm. Now that she was naked, he could see thousands of goosebumps rise everywhere on her flesh.

"Come here" he said, extending his hand.

She took it and stepped inside the tub, water undulating all around them. She sat in front of him and he could feel her relax in the warmth of the bath.

"Time to clean up a bit" she said, seizing the sponge.

Great Mahal, she was taking things a little further than he had hoped. How long could he resist without jumping on her, he had no idea.

She plunged the sponge in the water, squeezing it before rubbing it on his neck and chest. Like everything else she did, she worked with utter precision, with as little gestures as she could. Quiet and efficient. She was now on her knees, hovering a little over him as she passed the sponge on his face, removing all traces of soot. Her breasts were brushing his chest, and he clutched the sides of the tub. He had to refrain not to push her back in the water and thrust inside of her until nothing else mattered.

"Your hair too, my love" she murmured, slowly untying his braids, putting his silver beads and clips aside.

When she was done, she took a jar and filled it with water that she poured on his head. She rubbed the soap in her hands then applied the foam in his mane. Her hands felt so good, so soft, so gentle as they eased every knot. He sighed with contentment as she rinsed the soap, his hair crinkling under her fingers.

"There" she said with a satisfied smile. "All clean and new."

She placed a swift kiss on his nose and backed away, quick as a deer.

"Not so fast" he said, catching her in his arms. "You also need some cleaning up."

He took the sponge and pecked it on her face until all traces of the soot he had left on her was gone.

"Enough" she chuckled. "You're tickling me."

"Oh" he said. "You don't like being tickled? What about this, then?"

His lips found hers and she leaned forward into him, kissing him back.

"Not fair" she said when he released her. "You know I like it when you kiss me."

"Oh, do you?"

She nodded eagerly.

"And this?"

His mouth went down along the line of her jaw to her neck, his lips firm against her soft skin. She moaned her assent. He continued down her neck, licking the hollow in between her clavicles. She tilted her head back, fingers tightening on his shoulders.

"Do you like this?" he asked, voice now husky with desire.

He left a trail of wet kisses on her breasts until his mouth reached one of her nipples. His tongue flicked on it and she arched her back, nearly crying out. One of his hands moved to the other breast, cupping it, his thumb playing with her nerves. Her fingers dug in his flesh.

"Stop playing with me" she moaned. "I want-"

"Yes, my love" he said in her ear. "What is it you want?"

"You" she whispered pitifully. "I want you."

He kissed her fully, hands roaming her back. She was still sitting on him and his erection was pressed between her thighs. He wanted her too, stronger than ever before. He had ached for this moment all day long. Leaning forward, he pushed her back, but she stopped him, her hand on his chest. She was slipping under him, head half afloat.

"Not like that" she managed to say when he pulled her back on her knees, apologizing.

Why was it so complicated? Maybe they should leave the bath and go to bed. But he was not sure how long he could wait. She was still on her knees, and his member pulsed against her entrance. Maybe if he could think of another way? He seized her hips and slid her down gently on him. She moaned, clinging to him, her grey eyes plunged in his. When he could go no further, he lifted her up and slammed her harder this time. She grabbed his hands, twining fingers for balance as she took control. Slowly, she moved her hips up then down.

How did she do it? How did she know? It was even better than before. So slow and gentle. Her eyes never leaving his, she untwined one of her hands to put it behind her as she leaned backwards. He caught her waist with his free arm, but still let her decide the pace. He was about to burst when she leaned forward again to claim his mouth. He felt her whole body shake as his own release found him. He kissed her back, smiling.

Strangely enough, he knew that before long, he would want her again. Would this longing never stop? Was it always like that? He had no idea. He just knew that he had never been this happy before.


	9. Chapter 9

Sigrid

As she made her way to Dale after what seemed like an eternity, Sigrid let the fresh air cool her already too warm cheeks. She could not help thinking about the previous night. She would have happily stayed in bed with Fíli all day, but since he had to leave, she had thought a visit to her family would do her good. Change her mind. She felt a bit guilty at how much she wanted to neglect her tasks and spend her time in her husband's arms. Never before had she known such happiness. Hers had been a life of toil almost since her birth, and it had not improved after her mother's death. Far from that. She had always done what needed to be done. Because she loved her father and he counted on her. But she had never felt happy. She had thought she was, at times, when work was well-done and it gave her satisfaction. But now she could tell the difference. Happiness was when Fíli looked at her with those clear blue eyes of his. When he kissed her and she kissed him back because she wanted to.

The city was in far better condition that it had been. The rebuilding was going well, with the gold from her bride-price. It lifted her heart to see the towers high in the sky, to walk in streets free of all rubble. She had barely noticed before, so busy she had been with trying to accept her fate. A gust of wind suddenly blew her braid back in her face. She clung to her fur-rimmed cloak, unaware that people stopped to stare at her as she walked. She wore her hair differently today, in a single large braid that hung on her shoulder, woven with fire opals that Fíli had given her. Her clothes were of better facture, although she still favored the color blue. Even the way she walked was different. Marriage had given her poise. Or was it her new station? Her escort of two dwarf guards in full chainmail, only a few feet behind her, was hard not to notice, and screamed royalty wherever she went.

She heard whispers of "_My lady_" and "_Bless thee_" as people stopped what they were doing to bow in front of her. A little girl stepped in and offered her some flowers. Smiles were on every faces, old and young alike. Bard was a popular king, she knew, but why so much reverence for her? Was it gladness for their new wealth, which they knew they owed to her marriage? Or the simple respect paid to those with royal blood? She acknowledged them all with a nod of her head, still a little awkward with so much attention.

Bard's house was in the middle of a large street, not far from the market. She left her two guards at the entrance and pushed the door. As soon as she was in, she was swept in her sister's embrace, soon joined by their brother and father, all laughing with delight.

"Sig!" exclaimed Tilda. "I missed you so much!"

"I know, Tee" Sigrid apologized, kissing the little girl's cheek. "I couldn't come earlier, I'm sorry."

"We heard about your husband's wound" Bard said. "I hope it's nothing too serious."

"It gave me quite a fright, but he's quite recovered now" she replied, smiling.

Bard raised an eyebrow.

"You certainly look happy and well" he said, pinching her rosy cheeks.

He could not remember the last time his elder daughter had looked so cheerful.

"Look at you" he continued, taking a step back, staring at her. "All lady-like. The dwarves are treating you better, I suppose."

Sigrid nodded, cheeks a little rosier than before, a small smile forming on her lips as she remembered Fíli's warm embrace.

"Yes, Da. I'm feeling much better there than I used to. My husband and I are getting along well now."

That was as much as she allowed herself to reveal in front of her siblings.

"Then all is well, my princess" Bard said. "I hope you know I never intended for you to be unhappy. But for people like us, duty comes first."

He sighed, patting her on the back.

But who was that figure standing in the shadows? Sigrid looked up at her father, eyes widening in puzzlement.

"I'm glad you came, my princess" Bard said. "I would have sent a messenger, but I'd rather tell you myself. Your brother is getting married."

The figure stepped out of the shadows, a girl of about her age, slender and tall, with strawberry blond hair and freckles all over a rather pleasant face, curtsying with grace.

"This is Hilda. Bain and her have pledged themselves" Bard explained. "The wedding is due in a month now."

So soon? Sigrid had not known her brother was courting a girl. And a girl from Dale, at that. Hilda's dress was simple, her behavior unaffected. Sigrid was happy for her brother, of course, but she could see this marriage had nothing to do with politics or alliances.

"Welcome to the family" she said, taking Hilda's hands and pressing her cheek on the other girl's.

"Thank you, lady Sigrid" the other girl whispered.

"Oh, don't call me that!" Sigrid reproved. "Soon, we're going to be sisters and you'll be lady of Dale, not I."

"But don't you know?" Hilda asked, eyes widening in surprise. "People call you lady of Erebor now."

Sigrid chuckled. She was hardly lady in the Mountain, even though her husband was indeed the prince. Her handsome golden prince. She smiled as she thought of him, the memory of his kisses imprinted deep in her mind.

"Sig, are you alright?" Bain asked.

She made no answer, her mind still lingering on her husband.

"Sig?"

"What? - Oh, yes - I'm perfectly alright" she stammered as she went back to reality.

"For a minute, you looked very far away from here" her brother said. "What is going on with you?"

"I was just - daydreaming, I guess" she mumbled, embarrassed.

Sigrid never daydreamed. She had never been allowed that luxury before.

"Anyway, we'd like to invite you and your husband to the wedding feast" Bain continued.

"Of course" Sigrid said. "We'd be delighted!"

"And all of king Thorin's family" Bard added. "If you could pass the message, we'd be very grateful."

She agreed to invite everyone. Indeed, it would be a joyful event that she was happy to look forward to.

Days passed, then weeks. Domesticity suited Sigrid well. It was her territory. Mending clothes, cleaning, cooking, taking care of her husband. She took great pride in all of that, although it was nothing out of the ordinary. Fíli spent more time at home than before, helping her when she allowed, or taking the right to do so even if she disagreed. She had come to like that about him, and she feigned to be angry when he settled the table or did the dishes. He played along with her, knowing full well how those games inevitably ended, clothes discarded on the floor, hungry for each other.

She was also given more freedom to come and go, especially to go to the library. She enjoyed those moments with Balin as her teacher. The old dwarf knew countless stories and was always happy to share. The library was peaceful and quiet, but she could not read a single scroll, since everything was written in Khuzdul. She had picked up a few words, most particularly terms of endearments that Fíli would sometimes use, such as _ghivashel_ or _â__zyungel_. But dwarves rarely spoke Khuzdul, even amongst themselves, and only in the most formal occasions. And teaching it to strangers was unheard of. She resigned herself to not be able to read the scrolls. It was already nice to be able to roam the halls free and pass by the forges on her way to the library. If only to spy on Fíli, shirtless with the heat, sweating body covered in soot that she would have to clean in the evening.

One day, after just such a cleaning session, she was doing her hair in their bedroom. They were about to have dinner with Dís, and Fíli always insisted for Sigrid to wear one of his gifts. He liked to spoil his wife, even though she had no taste for grandeur. She preferred flowers to jewels, but she had to admit that those he gave her were always special. As were the fabrics he purchased sometimes from the elves. She had made a dress for Bain's wedding out of a piece of the finest gossamer she had ever seen. It must have cost him quite a fortune, but it pleased him so much that she looked her best that she had not protested. She still could not get used to so much wealth. It made her feel small and insignificant.

She was sitting in front of her mirror, braiding her hair with her fire opals, when Fíli came to stand behind her.

"Let me help you with that" he said, taking the brush from her.

However large his hands were, there was no denying how skilled they were at these sorts of tasks.

"There, it's done!"

Fíli planted the lightest of kisses just below her ear and Sigrid shivered. She looked at her reflection as his lips nipped at her skin, like tiny butterflies. Where was the girl from Laketown? So coarse and unrefined, seldom a smile graced her face. But now, she could only see this beautiful and radiant woman with lush golden brown hair, gems shimmering all over her, wrapped in her lover's embrace. She turned her head slightly and her lips met Fíli's with renewed eagerness.

"Sweet Mahal" he said, pulling away from her, staring into her eyes. "Do not kiss me like that, woman, or I swear we'll be late for my mother's dinner!"

His hands were already searching for her breasts, but when he touched them over the fabric of her dress, she startled with discomfort. She had not been feeling so well all day long. Cramps had nagged her all afternoon and she had noticed as she changed that she had been bleeding. Was it already this time of the month? It would explain her sore breasts, but it seemed a little early. She knew he would not mind. They had already done it and he did not care, but she was afraid something might be wrong with her.

"You're right" she told him with a wink, her finger lightly brushing his nose. "We shouldn't be late."

She got up in a rustle of taffetas, much to his dismay.

"As you say, my lady" Fíli said, frowning at her.

She took his arm and they made their way to Dís's halls. As always, dinner was copious. Kíli was his usual happy self, and Dís scolded him for his language. It normally amused Sigrid but she was even more unwell than before. Her head ached and she felt nauseous throughout the meal, having to force herself to eat, even though her stomach churned at the mere sight of food.

"Are you feeling alright, my child?" Dís asked, concerned. "Have you got a fever?"

"I'm a little queasy, that is all" Sigrid answered, embarrassed. "Maybe I should go back home and rest."

Suddenly, her stomach heaved and she got up, rushing to the kitchen sink to throw up. Dís followed, closing the door behind her.

"Any better now?" she asked, patting Sigrid on the back.

The young woman turned, wiping her mouth on a towel.

"I'm so sorry" she said. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I got cold somewhere."

"How long have you been feeling like that?" Dís asked, making her sit down.

"Just today" Sigrid replied.

"And food made you nauseous" Dís continued, smiling.

Sigrid frowned. Why was the dwarf-lady smiling?

"Well, you'd better get used to it, my sweet!"

The young woman still looked at Dís with wide eyes, perplexed.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Sigrid shrugged. "I'm ill, that is all. All I need is rest."

"You're not ill, my dear. You're with child" Dís declared with a knowing air.

The young woman gaped. "What?"

No, it could not be. She was bleeding earlier. How?

"When did you last bleed?" Dís asked.

"Today."

"Yes, but when was it the last time? Is it too early?"

Sigrid gave it a thought. Dís was right, it was indeed too early.

"I last bled about three weeks before."

"And today you had cramps" the dwarf-lady stated.

Sigrid nodded.

"Breasts hurting and a headache" Dís continued.

Again she nodded.

"There can be no doubt. You're pregnant. Congratulations, child" Dís said, hugging her daughter-in-law.

Sigrid's face slowly beamed into the brightest smile.

"I'm pregnant? I'm going to have Fíli's child?" she murmured in delight. "Oh, mother, I'm so happy!"

She returned Dís's hug fiercely, unaware her tongue had slipped and she had called the dwarf-lady mother.

Several knocks on the door interrupted them.

"Are you alright in there?" they heard Fíli ask.

Sigrid tried to compose herself.

"Not a word" she whispered to Dís. "I want to tell him my own way."

"Of course, my child. My lips are sealed" Dís replied, opening the door. "It's quite alright, but I think your wife needs to go back home now."

"Of course, mother" Fíli said, taking Sigrid's arm. "Let's go."

He looked so concerned for her as they walked back to their halls. But she would wait. She would not tell him right away. Dís seemed to be sure, but what if she was wrong? No, Sigrid needed to be absolutely certain. There were midwives in Dale she could consult, but she would have to make sure her escort did not know what she was about. And then, when there was no doubt, she would tell him.

As they went to bed that evening, he dared not even touch her, for fear of hurting her. She wondered how long her discomfort would last as she curled on her side of the bed. In those last few weeks, she had grown accustomed to his arms holding her as she slept. She waited until he was fast asleep to turn towards him and place her head on his shoulder. A child. Was it not the most wonderful thing in the world?


	10. Chapter 10

Fíli

It was the day of Bain's wedding and Sigrid seemed to feel better. She had gone to Dale and some healers there had given her herbs to help settle her stomach. Still, Fíli feared it was more serious than she said. He had a feeling she was hiding something from him. But what she refused to say, he had no idea. She had spent most of her time in Dale, no doubt in preparation for the wedding, and when he asked her about her health, she remained evasive, as if she did not want to worry him. What was it? He feared that her state was worse than she wanted to admit.

"Are you sure you're strong enough for the feast?" he asked as they both got dressed. "We can leave after the ceremony so you can rest, if you don't feel up to it."

She shook her head. "I assure you, I'm quite alright. Actually, I'm looking forward to the feast. And the dance."

And indeed, she looked well, her cheeks glowing pink as she smiled at him, eyes bright with joy. She was more beautiful than ever, in her light blue gossamer dress. The most perfect diamonds were hanging from her neck and ears, but she had left her hair without any ornament. Even so, she was the most precious gem in all the Mountain and his heart swelled as he looked at her. For the first time, he realized he would not know what to do if he lost her. Why such negative thoughts on such a lovely day? Her illness worried him so much that he could not help it.

But she seemed not to notice his concern as she helped him tie his hair, a light smile on her lips.

"And maybe if you're not too tired after all that, we can spend some quality time together" she teased, blushing a little.

He had kept away from her during those days of sickness, waiting for her state to improve. He missed their lovemaking. Much more than he had expected. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of her, but he had not wanted to bother her. If she felt strong enough, though, there was still time before the ceremony.

"Why wait until tonight?" he said, catching her in his arms, but she laughed as she snaked away.

"Oh, but the wait makes things better, doesn't it?" she exclaimed. "Come, we don't want to be late."

Always the voice of reason, he thought with a sigh. But she was right. It would not do to make Thorin wait.

They all left the Mountain in a procession, Thorin and Dís up front, followed by Sigrid and Fíli arm in arm, and Kíli alone at the rear. The day was clear and sunny, and the birds, which had returned in flocks after the dragon's death, were singing. Bright colors hung from every window. The rebuilding was going well, it seemed. Although Thorin remained stern the whole way, Fíli smiled gracefully at the people of Dale who had amassed in the streets to greet them.

They were met in the great market place by Bard and his daughter Tilda, and the ceremony began. It brought back memories of his own wedding and how doomed he had felt at the time. But fate had given him the most wonderful wife, he thought, holding Sigrid's hand to his lips fondly. She stared at him as if that was the most inappropriate thing to do. He did not care. He wanted everyone to witness the love he had for her. And indeed, he could not focus on anything that was not her. In his mind still resonated the promise she had made.

At last, the ceremony was over and they all took their place at the royal table, Thorin at Bard's side, Sigrid next to her sister-in-law Hilda. There were countless trays and benches for all the people of the city who made merry with their new wealth. Fíli kept a close eye on his wife, worried that all that rich food might make her sick again. But she ate with good cheer, although he noticed she kept away from all that was fat. She was offered wine but she declined, asking for water instead. She talked a lot with Hilda, laughing and holding the other girl's hand in hers. She seemed merrier than ever, and the sun shining bright in the sky lent some gold to her hair. She was right, she did not need any jewels to shine. Already, the people of Dale were calling them "the golden couple". He did not know how he felt about that sudden popularity. He had never wanted the attention.

Suddenly, he felt a little hand on his arm and a pair of grey eyes, so much like Sigrid's, gazing at him eagerly.

"Lord Fíli, will you come and dance?" Tilda asked, hopping up and down excitedly.

He had not noticed that music had started and people were beginning to gather in a round. One look at his wife was enough to know that she approved, so he let Tilda guide him in the round. People cheered at them as the little girl showed him the steps. He searched for Sigrid at the royal table, and there she was, clapping her hands in support.

After a while, people called for both royal couples to dance and he went to fetch Sigrid. They clasped hands with Bain and Hilda and the four of them entered the round to the crowd's delight and applause. Sigrid was laughing with utter joy and Fíli reflected he had never seen her so joyful, even when they were together. they turned and whirled until both of them were out of breath, and he led her out of the round for a well-deserved rest.

They walked away hand in hand. Evening had fallen but the lights from the city lit up the whole sky. In the distance, the Mountain loomed over, its peaks white with everlasting snow. Sigrid was humming a tune along with the music from the wedding, her hand clutching his as she had never done before. They used to walk arm in arm, but she had a dislike for holding hands.

"You are in pretty high spirits tonight, my love" Fíli said as they made their way under flower-woven trellis.

"Isn't Hilda the cutest thing on this earth?" Sigrid asked with a smile. "I loved her flower crown, that was a really nice touch."

"I wouldn't know" Fíli answered. "I had only eyes for you."

They were on the stairs leading down from Dale now and he stopped, one step higher than Sigrid.

"You're too sweet" she replied, gazing into his eyes.

They stood lost in each other's eyes for the longest time, unaware of the sounds from the feast continuing in the distance.

"I don't know what it is, but you are certainly glowing today" Fíli finally said.

"Am I?" she asked, a small smile gracing her lips. "I guess. They said it happened to some women when-"

She interrupted herself, looking down at her feet.

Placing a finger under her chin, Fíli raised her face to gaze at her, brows furrowed.

"When what, Sigrid?" he asked.

She took a deep breath before replying. "I'm with child."

He gaped. She was pregnant. She was carrying his child. Their child. A million different thoughts collided in his mind as he stood there, staring at her with widening eyes. He had always known it had to come to this, but so soon? He was not prepared. What was he supposed to do?

Fireworks exploded in the sky to celebrate the newly-weds, startling him from his

thoughts. His eyes focused back on Sigrid, still waiting, expectant. She was biting her lips, visibly anxious. But words eluded him. He was too overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He turned away, pacing on the steps, trying to calm the turmoil in his head.

"Oh, I see now" he heard her say, her voice a little shrill. "I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you. But I wanted to be sure. Absolutely sure."

He spun on his feet, finally breaking his silence. "How long have you known?"

"A week now" she said, looking at him with hopeful eyes. "Please tell me you're not angry" she continued, getting hold of his hands.

He was thinking fast now. A week. It matched the beginning of her illness. He had known she was hiding things from him. He had supposed the disease was more serious than she wanted to say. He had been so worried! But instead, she was with child. And his mother knew. She had to. That was why they had stayed so long in the kitchen that evening. He sighed with relief, finally allowing himself to recognize his emotions. She was not sick. Another life was growing inside of her, a tiny being born out of their love. It was the most amazing news in the world. His face relaxed into the widest grin and he took her in his arms.

"Oh, Sigrid" he murmured in her ear. "This is wonderful!"

"You're not angry, then?" she asked, voice trembling.

He cupped her face in his hands. "How could I ever be angry at you?" he replied. "This is the happiest day of my life!"

He kissed her as the fireworks displayed their most beautiful colors, high up in the sky.

"Are you still up to some quality time together?" he asked, rubbing his nose on hers. "Because I'm really not feeling sleepy."

She smiled. "Always."

After so many days of abstinence, he could not wait any longer. As soon as they were home, he sat her on the table in the middle of the common room, crushing her mouth in his haste. His hands lifted her dress, caressing the whole length of her legs in the process. She pressed herself against him with urgency, getting rid of his belt and cloak. Her flesh was warm under his hand and he could tell she was already aroused. His fingers dipped into her wetness, grazing her bud.

"Fíli" she cried out, grabbing his shoulders.

He had been wanting to try that out for weeks now, but he was unsure if she would like it. Her squeals encouraged him and he rubbed his thumb on her button. She bucked her hips, moaning louder, as he stroked her gently. She closed her eyes, arching her back and he let her lie down on the table.

"Just tell me if there's anything you don't like" he said, moving to kneel between her legs.

Still rubbing her hot center, he started kissing the insides of her thighs, getting closer to the apex.

"What are you doing?" she asked, lifting her head as his mouth tentatively kissed her bud.

He raised his face to look at her. "You don't like it?"

"I don't know" she said. "Do it again."

He went back between her thighs, his fingers grabbing her butt as he licked her, lapping at her juices. His tongue lingered on her button and she moaned a long "yes", legs tightening. He sucked at it for a while, and she seized the edges of the table.

"Don't stop, please" she whimpered.

He continued sucking at it until her breath quickened and she writhed with her orgasm. She lied on the table, limp and out of breath, a smile painted on her lips.

"That was-" she started, unable to finish her sentence.

He looked at her, still in her dress and jewels, her large braid splayed on the table. He still wanted her. In fact, he wanted her more than ever. Giving her pleasure had only aroused him more, but he did not know if she would want to have him. She seemed to have had enough, so he just undid his breeches and started stroking himself to find some release.

She opened her eyes and raised herself, looking at him, fascinated. She advanced her hand to touch him as he had touched her, her fingers grazing his tip. Slowly, she encased him as he was doing, and he exhaled a moan.

"Please, continue" he rasped, guiding her hand back and forth his shaft, making her squeeze harder.

She slipped on the ground, kneeling, as she went on with her ministrations. He closed his eyes, releasing her hand, letting her take control. Suddenly, he felt her mouth on his member. She was kissing him as he had kissed her, all around his tip. He groaned as she finally licked the whole length of him. She stopped, as if unsure what to do next.

"Tell me what you want" she said in the lightest of whispers. "I want to please you as you pleased me."

Fíli swallowed hard, breath coming faster as he thought of all the things he wanted her to do.

"Take me in your mouth" he hissed.

She complied, placing her mouth around his tip, sliding forward. He groaned again and his fingers grabbed her hair. She sucked at him slowly, back and forth.

"Faster" he requested, tugging at her hair, but refraining from forcing her head down his shaft.

After a while, his breath became more ragged and he pulled away from her. He knelt in front of her, kissing her hard as he lifted her butt to slide inside of her. Still kneeling, he pinned her on the ground, his hips clashing on hers as he thrust eagerly.

"Yes" she moaned. "Take me, my lion."

Her words made him go wild and he unleashed all he had, pounding her mercilessly until he could no longer hold it back. He came with a loud grunt and she held him close in her arms, kissing his face.

"You are aware that I'm already pregnant" she murmured with a slight chuckle.

"Yes" he said. "But that doesn't mean we have to stop having sex. Unless it's not comfortable for you."

"In that case, I guess we still have a little time" she sighed happily. "And many other things to learn."


End file.
